THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF 
PRAGMATISM 


THE   PRINCIPLES   OF 
PRAGMATISM 

A   PHILOSOPHICAL  INTERPRETATION 
OF   EXPERIENCE 

BY 
H.  HEATH  BAWDEN 


CONSTABLE  &  CO.  Limited 

BOSTON    AND    NEW    YORK 

HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
1910 


COPYRIGHT,    IQTO,    BY    H.    HEATH    BAWDEN 
ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 


TO 

MY  FORMER  STUDENTS  AND  TO 

ALL  WHO  LOVE  TRUTH 

AND  FREEDOM 


PREFACE 

The  significant  fact  in  recent  philosophy  is 
the  conscious  demand  for  reconstruction  of  its 
method,  —  a  reconstruction  of  its  whole  purpose 
and  procedure,  not  merely  a  patching-up  of  the 
existing  machinery  of  reflective  thought. 

This  demand  implies  the  breaking  down 
of  the  customary  division  of  philosophy  into 
theory  of  knowledge  and  theory  of  reality,  and 
the  treatment  of  these  as  phases  of  a  general 
theory  of  experience.  The  course  of  discussion 
in  the  past  few  years  between  the  leading  schools 
of  thought  has  made  evident  the  need  of  a  new 
statement  of  the  issues  involved.  No  one  of  the 
proposed  systems  has  been  generally  accepted. 
The  truth  must  lie  somewhere  in  their  uncrit- 
icised  postulates.  The  present  work  is  an  at- 
tempt to  set  forth  the  necessary  assumptions 
of  a  philosophy  in  which  experience  becomes 
self-conscious  as  method. 

This  demand  for  reconstruction  implies  also 
a  synthesizing  of  the  fundamental  underlying 
ideas  in  a  form  which  the  man  of  average  in- 
telligence and  education  may  understand.  In 
these  days,  when  the  different  branches  of  phi- 


viii  PREFACE 

losophy  have  become  professions,  and  their 
language  as  unintelHgible  to  the  layman  as  the 
technicalities  of  the  special  sciences,  the  need 
of  simplification  is  obvious.  Pragmatism  is  an 
attempt  to  meet  this  need.  There  have  arisen, 
however,  many  apparently  contradictory  inter- 
pretations of  this  new  movement,  even  in  the 
minds  of  its  professed  exponents.  It  is  the  hope 
of  the  author  that  these  pages  will  aid  in  clari- 
fying the  meaning  of  this  word  "  pragmatism." 

It  is  not  the  aim  to  construct  a  system,  but 
to  show  how  in  pragmatism  we  may  establish 
the  basal  conceptions  of  a  new  philosophy  of 
experience. 

The  author  extends  his  thanks  to  the  editors 
of  the  following  journals  for  the  use  of  articles 
■which  have  already  appeared :  "  The  Philo- 
sophical Review  "  ;  "  The  Psychological  Re- 
view "  ;  "  The  Psychological  Bulletin  " ;  "  The 
Journal  of  Philosophy,  Psychology,  and  Scien- 
tific Methods  "  ;  "  The  Journal  of  Comparative 
Neurology  and  Psychology  "  ;  "  The  New  York 
Teachers'  Monographs"  ;  "  The  Popular  Science 
Monthly";  "The  Proceedings  of  the  Baptist 
Congress  " ;    and    "  The    Elementary    School- 

H.  Heath  Bawden. 

San  Ysidro,  California, 
March,  1910. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  I.     PHILOSOPHY 

1.  Philosophy  and  Pragmatism 3 

2.  Philosophy  as  Method 26 

3.  The  Functional  Point  of  View 44 

CHAPTER  II.     EXPERIENCE 

4.  The  Philosophical  Conception  of  Experience  .  51 

5.  The  Scientific  View 57 

6.  The  Social  Nature  of  Experience 64 

7.  The  Unity  of  the  Self 76 

CHAPTER  III.     CONSCIOUSNESS 

8.  The  Psychophysical  Organism 89 

9.  The  Law  of  Consciousness 103 

10.  The  Law  of  Facilitation 113 

11.  Habit  and  Attention 119 

CHAPTER   IV.     FEELING 

12.  Doing,  Feeling,  and  Thinking 126 

13.  Pain  and  Pleasure 130 

14.  The  Relativity  Doctrlxe 136 

15.  Feeling  and  Thinking 141 

CHAFfER   V.     THINKING 

16.  Thin'king  in  relation  to  Action 153 

17.  Thought  as  the   Mediation  of  Experience      .  156 

18.  The  Function  of  Sensation  in  Knowledge  .     .  161 

19.  The  Function  of  Ideas  in  Knowledge      .    .     .  167 

20.  Thought  and  Language 175 


X  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  VI.  TRUTH 

21.  The  Test  of  Truth 197 

22    The  Principle  of  Relevancy 211 

23.  The  Problem  of  Authority 219 

CHAPTER   VII.     REALITY 

24.  What  is  Reality  ? 237 

25.  Realism  and  Idealism 240 

26.  The  Nature  of  Objectivity 254 

27.  Space,  Time,  and  Causation 261 

CHAPTER  VIII.     EVOLUTION  AND  THE 
ABSOLUTE 

28.  Conservation  versus  Evolution 290 

29.  The  Question  of  Absolute  Origin 296 

30.  Evolutionism 301 

31.  Absolutism 305 

CHAPTER  IX.     MIND  AND  MATTER 

32.  The  Dilemma 311 

33.  The  Evolution  of  the  Distinction 321 

34.  Consciousness  and  Experience 328 

35.  Consciousness  and  the  Psychical 345 

36.  Dualism  and  Monism 353 

Index 357 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF 
PRAGMATISM 


"  Some  people  swallow  the  universe  like 
a  pill.  ...  It  is  better  to  emit  a  scream  in 
the  shape  of  a  theory  than  to  be  entirely 
insensible  to  the  jars  and  incongruities  of 
life  and  take  everything  as  it  comes  in  a 
forlorn  stupidity." 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson. 


THE  PEINCIPLES  OF 
PKAGMATISM 

CHAPTER  I 

PHILOSOPHY 

§  1.  PHILOSOPHY   AND   PRAGMATISM 

Pragmatism  is  a  recent  movement  of  thought 
which  is  seeking  to  do  justice  to  the  neglected 
claims  of  common  sense,  of  relio:ious 

The  New 

faith,  and  of  science,  in  determining  a  Philosophy 
true  philosophy  of  life.  As  Professor  pragma- 
James  says,  it  is  merely  a  new  name  for  ^™' 
some  old  ways  of  thinking,  yet  in  its  scope  and 
depth  of  significance  it  promises  to  rank  among 
the  important  and  characteristic  products  of  our 
Anglo-Saxon  civilization. 

It  is  not  uncommon  to  find,  even  among  those 
who  make  the  study  of  philosophy  a  specialty, 
the  opinion  that  the  plain  man  in  some  sense 
stands  nearer  to  the  truth  of  things  than  they 
themselves  do.  By  the  plain  man  is  meant  the 
man  of  action  or  man  of  affairs  who,  as  a  rule, 
does  not  make  the  principles  of  his  action  the 


4  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

subject  of  special  or  prolonged  reflection.  This 
is  not  to  say  that  the  practical  man,  as  we  often 
call  him,  does  not  think  or  plan  his  conduct.  It 
means  that  for  him  thinking  is  instrumental  to 
some  purpose  and  does  not  itself  become  the  end 
or  object  of  his  thought.  He  thinks,  but  he  does 
not  reflect  ujDon  his  thoughts.  Thought  more 
immediately  goes  over  into  what  we  call  move- 
ment. His  ends  are  those  immediately  suggested 
by  the  social  situation.  He  does  not  turn  back 
to  critical  analysis  of  the  machinery  of  his  in- 
dividual mind  by  which  these  social  ends  are 
achieved.  The  emphasis  is  upon  action  rather 
than  upon  thought,  upon  practice  rather  than 
upon  theory.  The  reflective  thinker,  whether  he 
be  called  scientist  or  philosopher,  feels  at  times 
that  in  transferring  his  immediate  interest  from 
the  overt  act  to  the  inner  technique  which  con- 
ditions the  act,  he  has  sacrificed  somewhat  of 
the  concrete  human  values  with  which  the  prac- 
tical man  is  in  closer  touch. 

There  has  been  a  disposition  in  recent  years 
to  make  philosophy  more  practical  than  it  has 
been  in  the  past.  The  spirit  of  democracy  has 
at  last  reached  the  metaphysicians,  than  whom 
there  has  been  no  more  esoteric  class  in  society. 
By  its  very  nature  philosophy  is  universal  and 


PHILOSOPHY  6 

democratic  in  its  interests,  and  there  have  al- 
ways been  those  who  have  realized  this.  But  too 
often  these  have  been  outcasts  from  the  society 
of  the  elect,  and  regarded  as  falling  short  of 
full  philosophic  insight.  Without  doubt,  in  seek- 
ing to  be  of  service  to  men,  they  have  fre- 
quently failed  in  logical  consistency.  But  their 
purpose,  not  only  to  serve  the  truth,  but  to  make 
the  truth  serve  the  needs  of  man,  is  the  noblest 
aim  possible  to  science,  and  even  the  philoso- 
phers are  coming  to  see  that  utility  is  com- 
patible with  validity.  The  latest  manifestation 
of  this  high  aim  is  the  new  philosophy  called 
pragmatism,  which,  while  not  free  from  one- 
sidedness  and  partisanship  in  some  of  its  forms, 
is  on  the  whole  to  be  hailed  as  a  movement  of 
the  greatest  significance,  and  a  sign  that  the 
democratic  ideal  is  destined  to  transform  our 
thinking  as  well  as  our  conduct. 

Of  the  pragmatism  of  naive  practice  we  need 
say  nothing ;  it  is  justified  by  its  works.  It  needs 
no  vindication,  or,  rather,  when  it  seeks 

Pragmatism 

to  justify  itself,  it  is  no  longer  practice,  and  prac- 
nor  is  it  any  longer  naive.  It  has  en- 
tered the  realm  of  reflection,  and  becomes  scien- 
tific or  philosophic  according  to  whether  the  re- 
flection undertakes  the  critical  analysis  of  some 


6  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

specific  phase  or  the  technique  of  practice  as  a 
whole.  Pragmatism,  if  consistent,  one  might  sup- 
pose, would  not  aspire  to  become  a  philosophy. 
It  should  be  content  to  be  what  the  word  de- 
notes, conduct  not  theory,  action  not  thought, 
life  not  doctrine. 

A  deeper  insight,  however,  discloses  the  fact 
that  the  practical  is  what  it  is  only  by  contrast 
with  the  theoretical,  and  that  the  current  prag- 
matism is  the  reaction  from  a  speculative  phi- 
losophy out  of  touch  with  the  affairs  of  men. 
This  emphasis  upon  practice  not  only  implies, 
but  demands  theory,  —  the  true  theory.  At  the 
outset  the  pragmatist  must  not  only  admit  but 
insist  that  theory  and  practice  imply  each  other 
in  the  most  intimate  way.  A  philosophy  may 
give  assurance  of  God,  freedom,  and  immortal- 
ity, but  if  it  bakes  no  bread  it  is  sure  sooner  or 
later  to  be  called  to  account.  What  the  practi- 
cal man  wishes  is  a  theory  of  life,  not  of  the 
after-life ;  a  philosophy  of  this  world,  not  of  a  hy- 
pothetical heaven.  He  follows  with  interest  the 
development  of  a  working  hypothesis  in  science, 
but  is  impatient  of  speculations  on  the  infinite 
and  the  eternal.  He  admits  the  value  of  the 
thinker  in  the  world,  but  he  insists  on  the  think- 
ing of  concrete  things;  he  has  no  use  for  empty 


PHILOSOPHY  7 

abstractions.  He  sees  the  place  of  ideas  in  the 
universe:  he  is  an  idealist.  But  he  maintains 
that  ideas  are  always  instrumental  to  action :  he 
is  a  practical  idealist.  The  common  sense  of  the 
plain  man  .is  pragmatic.  It  sometimes  forgets 
that  it  is  also  idealistic. 

But  whatever  the  naive  pragmatist  may  do, 
the  reflective  and  critical  pragmatist  does  not 
forget  that  theory  is  itself  practice  pragmatism 
undergoing  transformation.  Ideas  are  and  Theory. 
the  metamorphosis  of  action.  We  think  when 
we  cannot  act  efficiently  without  thought,  when 
our  more  immediate  types  of  behavior  break 
down.  There  can  be  no  contradiction  between 
theory  and  practice.  Theory  is  simply  practice 
in  solution.  When,  therefore,  recoiling  from  an 
over-emphasis  of  certain  abstract  phases,  we 
find  reflective  thinkers  coming  back  to  life,  the 
original  starting-point  of  all  theory,  we  are  not 
witnessinof  the  establishment  of  a  new  school 
of  philosophy,  but  simply  the  reaffirmation  of  a 
temporarily  ignored  but  universal  aspect  of  all 
reflective  thought.  If  there  is  danger  in  the 
extremes  of  intellectualism,  of  absolutism,  and 
transcendentalism,  there  is  danger  also  in  an 
ultra-radical  expiricism,  relativism,  or  immediat- 
ism.  If  pragmatism  is  individualistic  and  solip- 


8  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

sistic,  as  its  critics  assert,  it  is  little  improvement 
on  the  various  forms  of  absolutism  to  which  it 
is  opposed.  But  when  we  become  pragmatists 
in  a  true  sense  we  do  not  lose  what  is  worth 
while  in  intellectualism  and  absolutism.  We 
carry  our  theory  back  to  its  sources  to  establish 
its  continuity,  and  forward  to  its  results  to  es- 
tablish its  validity.  We  do  not  cease  to  recognize 
the  value  of  theory  when  we  emphasize  the  im- 
portance of  practice.  We  merely  insist  on  the 
fundamental  importance  of  action  and  the  in- 
strumental function  of  thinking,  in  an  attempt 
to  counteract  the  vicious  fallacies  of  systems  of 
philosophy  which  oppose  or  reverse  this  relation. 
Pragmatism  does  not  deny  that  thought  is  as 
valuable  as  action.  It  af&rms  it.  It  holds  that 
thought  is  action  in  process  of  transformation ; 
it  asserts  that  thinking  is  itself  a  form  of  practice. 
Pragmatism  originated  as  a  principle  of  logi- 
cal method,  first  formulated  by  Mr.  Charles 
Peirce  in  1878,  in  a  series  of  articles 

The  FoTind- 

ers  of  prag-  published  in  "  The    Popular   Science 

matlsm. 

Monthly."  Twenty  years  later.  Profes- 
sor James,  in  an  address  before  the  Philosophi- 
cal Club  of  the  University  of  California,  brought 
Peirce's  principle  to  the  attention  of  the  philo- 
sophical world,  since  which  time  those  sympa- 


PHILOSOPHY  9 

thetic  with  the  general  point  of  view  have  been 
rallying  about  it  as  an  organizing  centre. 

At  the  present  time  it  is  connected  with  the 
names  of  three  men,  Professor  William  James 
of  Harvard  University,  Mr.  F.  C.  S.  Schiller  of 
Oxford  University,  England,  and  Professor 
John  Dewey  of  Columbia  University,  each  being 
associated  with  a  distinct  phase  of  the  move- 
ment. Professor  James  emphasizes  the  practical 
meaning  of  philosophy  for  every-day  life,  and 
in  describing  his  point  of  view  uses  the  words 
"  Pragmatism  "  and  "  Radical  Empiricism."  Mr. 
Schiller  defends  the  rio-hts  of  relis^ious  faith 
and  feeling  in  determining  our  beliefs,  and  pre- 
fers the  term  "  Humanism."  His  philosophy  has 
much  in  common  with  what  in  other  quarters 
has  come  to  be  called  "  Personalism."  Professor 
Dewey  is  the  champion  of  a  scientific  empirical 
method  in  philosophy.  This  method  is  quite 
generally  known  as  "  Instrumentalism,"  but  in 
a  recent  article  is  described  by  Professor  Dewey 
himself  as  "  Immediate  Empiricism." 

These  three  leading  exponents  of  pragma- 
tism may  be  regarded  as  meeting  the  objections 
to  philosophy  urged,  respectively,  by  the  man 
of  affairs,  by  the  mystical  religious  man,  and 
by  the  man  of  science. 


10  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

The  man  of  affairs  has  objected  to  philosophy 
in  the  past  on  the  ground  of  its  being  abstruse 
The  Man  ^^^  theoretical,  impractical,  and  dreary, 
of  Affairs,  jj^  -^  ^jj^blc  to  couvert  the  specula- 
tions of  the  metaphysician  into  market  values, 
on  the  one  hand,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
unsettles  his  faith  in  the  spiritual  verities,  be- 
lief in  which  he  finds  essential  to  his  peace  of 
mind.  Philosophy  is  looked  upon  as  a  sphere 
of  inquiry  remote  from  the  interests  of  every- 
day life,  and  occupied  with  barren  speculation 
about  questions  which  it  never  occurs  to  the 
ordinary  man  to  raise.  It  is  reproached  for 
speaking  of  things  that  everybody  knows,  in 
language  that  nobody  can  understand.  And 
there  is  no  doubt  that  philosophers  are  often 
indebted  to  their  own  preconceptions  for  the 
existence  of  problems  which  give  trouble  to  no 
one  else,  so  that  to  an  outsider  their  enterprise 
appears  to  be  little  more  than  a  systematic  at- 
tempt at  self-bewilderment. 

The  answer  which  pragmatism  makes  to  this 
objection  of  common  sense  is  to  admit  its  main 
contention.  Concrete  experience  must,  in  the 
last  analysis,  be  the  test  of  the  truth  of  ideas, 
and  it  must  be  admitted  that  philosophy  in  the 
past  has  often   lost  sight  of  the  interests  of 


PHILOSOPHY  11 

practical  life.  As  Mr.  Peirce  and  Professor 
James  put  it,  there  is  no  difference  that  does 
not  make  a  difference.  The  test  of  theories 
must  be  found  in  practice.  The  pragmatic  phi- 
losophy is  a  renewed  emphasis  of  this  truth.  It 
is  a  philosophy  of  doing,  and  of  knowing  only 
in  relation  to  doing.  It  is  a  philosophy  of  work, 
of  activity,  of  enterprise,  of  achievement.  And 
for  this  reason  it  has  taken  up  arms  against  all 
forms  of  dogmatism  and  apriorism,  in  so  far  as 
these  stand  for  intellectual  interests  which  do 
not  grow  out  of,  nor  minister  to,  the  needs  of 
Hfe. 

The  pragmatic  philosophy,  however,  has  one 
trenchant  criticism  to  make  on  the  attitude  of 
the  man  of  affairs  —  he  stands  in  his  TheLimita- 
own  light,  stands  so  close  to  his  prac-  co^°on 
tice  that  he  loses  perspective,  holding  ^^^^' 
a  nominal  theory  which  does  not  correspond  with 
the  real  theory  of  his  practice.  His  attitude  is 
essentially  uncritical  and  primitive  —  naive,  to- 
tal, implicit,  rather  than  reflective,  discriminat- 
ing, and  definitive.  In  becoming  practical,  phi- 
losophy deals  common  sense  a  severe  blow  by 
showing  its  inconsistency  and  the  narrowness 
and  vulgarity,  often,  of  its  empiricism;  for, 
after  all,  theories,  while  not  action  in  an  overt 


12  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

sense,  are  yet  themselves  just  refined  forms  of 
adjustment  in  a  complicated  environment. 

Philosophy  is  not  necessarily  abstruse,  nor 
are  its  speculations  barren.  There  are  problems 
and  mysteries  enough,  but  so  there  are  in  every- 
day life ;  these  are  not  peculiar  to  the  realm  of 
metaphysical  thought.  Philosophy  is  difficult 
only  when  it  is  not  philosophic  enough  to  be 
easy.  Professor  James  has  said  that 
Practical-  mctaphysics  is  only  an  unusually  obsti- 
nate attempt  to  think  clearly  and  con- 
sistently. All  thinking  is  difficult  in  a  sense, 
to  be  sure.  We  do  not  have  to  think  when 
things  move  smoothly.  Only  when  we  encounter 
obstruction  do  we  resort  to  ideas.  Thinking  is 
the  sign  of  the  presence  of  some  emergency 
which  we  are  trying  to  meet.  But  this  is  not 
peculiar  to  philosophic  reflection  :  it  is  true  of 
all  thought.  Philosophical  thinking  does  not 
differ  from  other  thinking  so  much  in  being 
more  difficult  as  in  being  more  systematic.  It 
is  unsystematic  work  which  is  hard  work.  What 
we  are  doing  is  easier  if  we  have  a  correct 
method  of  doing  it.  If  philosophy  seems  diffi- 
cult, vague,  and  obscure,  if  it  does  not  seem  to 
get  anywhere,  if  it  does  not  enlighten,  if  it  does 
not  give  a  truer  and  deeper  as  well  as  a  larger 


PHILOSOPHY  13 

point  of  view,  there  is  trouble  either  with  the 
philosophy  or  with  one's  self.  If  one  is  a  learner 
he  will  give  philosophy  the  benefit  of  the  doubt 
and  keep  on  thinking.  In  time  there  will  emerge 
either  a  new  conception  of  philosophy  or  a  new 
conception  of  one's  self  —  perhaps  both.  When 
one  has  worked  his  way  through  to  a  vantage- 
ground,  he  will  see  that  nothing  is  more  prac- 
tically useful  than  a  philosophical  point  of  view. 
It  is  not  a  question  of  having  or  not  having  a 
philosophy,  but  of  whether  it  is  to  be  a  good 
or  a  bad  one.  And  the  aim  is,  not  to  learn  phi- 
losophy, but  to  learn  to  philosophize  —  to  learn 
to  interpret  the  results  of  the  special  phases  of 
experience  in  terms  of  one  another,  and  to  see 
all  phases  of  life  in  relation  to  the  whole. 

"  Come  to  my  office  and  we  wiU  talk  it  over," 
said  the  great  financier  to  the  young  man  of 
promise.  To  talk  things  over  and  to  think 
things  over  —  this  is  the  only  philosophy  of  hf e 
that  is  really  worth  while,  and  we  are  all  philoso- 
phers in  this  sense  when  occasion  demands.  A 
group  of  men  talking  politics,  or  a  circle  of 
women  discussing  the  social  situation,  is  often 
the  originating  centre  of  a  true  spirit  of  phi- 
losophy. One  of  the  greatest  modern  products 
of  reflective  thought,  Locke's  "Essay  on  the 


14  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

Human  Understanding,"  originated  in  this  way. 
For  in  the  last  analysis  philosophy  is  simply 
having  a  point  of  view  in  life,  insisting  on  un- 
derstanding things  as  far  as  possible,  instead  of 
going  it  blindly.  And  when  one  becomes  inter- 
ested in  discovering  the  deeper  foundations  and 
in  gaining  the  wider  outlook  by  a  study  of  those 
sciences  which  treat  of  man  and  his  place  in  the 
cosmos,  he  is  simply  carrying  further  this  prac- 
tical interest  of  having  a  method  in  managing 
his  experience.  Philosophy  is  looking  on  Hfe 
with  a  conscious  and  systematic  attempt  to  un- 
derstand it  in  its  widest  and  deepest  relations  to 
the  universe. 

Another  type  of  person  who  is  more  impressed 
by  the  so-called  spiritual  things  of  life,  by  the 
.pjjg  values  as  opposed  to  the  facts,  believes 

Mystic.       .{.j^^|.  |.jjg  realities   which  are  of   most 

worth  are  apprehended  through  the  feelings  and 
by  faith  rather  than  by  purely  logical  processes, 
and  objects  to  philosophy  on  the  score  of  its  be- 
ing artificial  and  arbitrary,  substituting  formulas 
for  vital  experience  and  abstract  propositions  for 
warm  concrete  appreciations.  This  is  essentially 
the  mystical  attitude,  and  includes,  not  only  the 
religionist,  but  the  artist  and  many  others  who 
distrust  the  purely  intellectualist  way  of  looking 
at  the  universe. 


PHILOSOPHY  15 

The  mystic  objects  to  philosophy  on  the 
ground  that  the  ultimate  truth  of  things  is  to  be 
apprehended  in  a  more  immediate  way  than  by 
reflection  :  it  is  intuited,  felt,  absorbed  in  some 
pre-rational  or  super-rational  Avay,  not  reasoned 
out  by  the  laborious  methods  of  thought.  This 
immediate  sort  of  knowledge  does  not  demand 
demonstration :  it  is  only  mediate  knowledge 
that  admits  of  proof.  In  religion,  where  this  at- 
titude is  most  frequently  encountered,  the  most 
vital  and  fundamental  truths  are  laid  hold  of, 
not  by  the  intellect  alone  but  by  faith,  by  the 
emotional  and  volitional  nature.  The  ultimate 
test  lies  in  the  "  experience  "  of  religion,  by 
which  is  meant  an  active  appropriation,  as  well 
as  a  passive  acknowledgment  of  the  truth.  One 
is  incapable  of  understanding  what  religion  is 
until  he  has  thus  assimilated  it  to  the  subterra- 
nean currents  of  his  being.  The  mystic  feels 
that  the  attempt  to  encii'cle  reality  in  a  system 
of  philosophy  or  a  scientific  law  depletes  it :  the 
full  reality  is  infinitely  more  than  any  possible 
thought  or  linguistic  expression  of  it. 

Here,  again,  pragmatism  admits  the  main 
contention  of  the  objector.  Philosophy  too 
often,  as  Mr.  Bradley  has  said,  is  the  finding  of 
bad  reasons  for  what  we  believe  upon  instinct. 


16  PRmCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

and  the  substitution  of  abstract  impersonal  laws 
for  the  living  personal  values  of  immediate  ex- 
perience. And  this  new  philosophy  called  prag- 
matism is  trying  so  to  reconstruct  the  intellec- 
tual machinery  as  to  meet  the  needs  of  this 
deeper  emotional  and  volitional  nature  of  man. 
In  so  far  as  it  emphasizes  the  personal  as  opposed 
to  the  purely  formal  conditions  of  thinking,  it 
may  be  described  as  mystical  in  the  good  and 
legitimate  sense  of  the  word. 

This  is  the  core  of  Mr.  Schiller's  Humanism. 
Faith  underlies  the  hypothesis  of  scientific 
sciiiier's  method  as  truly  as  it  does  the  act  of 
Humanism,  obedience  in  rehgion  —  not,  however, 
in  the  sense  of  the  child  Mr.  Schiller  quotes, 
who  said  that  faith  is  believing  what  you  know 
is  n't  true,  but  in  the  sense  rather  of  a  legitimate 
speculation,  where  most  of  the  factors  are  un- 
certain, a  prudent  gambling  or  betting  on  par- 
tial knowledge.  If  faith  lies  at  the  basis  of 
our  credit  system  in  business  and  is  the  only 
sanction  of  the  inductive  leap  in  scientific  gen- 
erahzation,  why  should  it  not  be  legitimate  to 
take  the  risk  of  there  being  a  God  or  a  future 
life  ?  For  all  we  know,  the  wish  and  the  will  to 
believe  may  be  a  factor  in  determining  the  re- 
aHty. 


PHILOSOPHY  17 

Thus  pragmatism  is  a  protest  against  the  cold 
intellectualism  of  the  philosophy  and  science  of 
the  age.  In  mastering  the  means  of  living  we 
have  forgotten  the  ends  of  life.  We  confuse 
money  with  wealth,  the  Church  with  religion, 
politics  with  government,  the  school  with  edu- 
cation, leisure  with  culture.  He  fails  in  the  hav- 
ing who  spendeth  his  days  in  the  getting.  The 
values  of  life,  as  Hume  long  since  taught  us,  lie 
in  the  a-logical  forces  of  the  soul.  Reason  and 
the  ratiocinative  processes  are  justified  only 
when  they  serve  at  once  to  satisfy  and  to  modify 
the  feelings  and  desires  which  underlie  all  other 
aspects  of  personality. 

Much  of  what  the  mystic  says  is  true.  The 
attempt  to  think  or  describe  anything  is  a  selec- 
tion of    aspects  which  are  important  Experience 
from  the  point  of  view  of  a  certain  in-  |hM°any 
terest.  There  is  an  abstraction  from  the  ^j  b®™°°* 
full  reality,  much  of  which  remains  un-  rience. 
expressed.    This  experience  is  familiar  to  any 
one  who  tries  to  express  his  thought  in  lan- 
guage. It  is  never  possible  to  say  just  what  one 
means.  "  Language  foreshortens  experience.  .  .  . 
It  is  a  perpetual  mythology."  But  this  objection 
has  weight  against  every  attempt  to  state  ex- 
perience. In  one  sense  reality  is  much  more  than 


18  PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 

we  are  able  to  describe.  It  is  not  because  we  seek 
to  give  reality  a  new  formulation  that  we  fall 
into  this  error :  this  is  the  inevitable  implication 
of  using  any  definite  symbols.  Reality  is  always 
richer  than  systematized  knowledge.  Experience 
is  not  exhausted  in  verbal  ideas  of  it.  Phi- 
losophy always  falls  short  of  the  fullness  of  life. 
But  we  should  not  be  deterred  from  seeking  to 
state  a  theory  of  experience  in  as  rational  a  form 
as  possible  because  there  is  vastly  more  than  we 
can  formally  express.  Indeed,  this  is  just  the 
reason  for  pushing  forward  to  a  completer  world- 
view.  The  only  alternative  is  that  of  sheer  im- 
mediacy, not  to  pretend  to  state  it,  but  just  to 
be  it,  live  it,  feel  it,  by  a  process  of  direct  and 
unutterable  appreciation.  Even  this  alternative 
is  not  actually  open,  since  even  the  immediacy 
of  mysticism  requires  a  certain  amount  of  ratio- 
cination to  give  it  content. 

The  longer  we  live  and  reflect  upon  the  mean- 
ing of  life,  the  more  we  feel  that  the  deepest 
motives  which  underlie  our  conduct  are  too 
subtle  to  admit  of  exact  statement.  There  are 
all  sorts  of  wonderful  things  that  happen  to 
people  which  do  not  get  written  down  in  their 
science  or  their  philosophy  of  life  —  experiences 
which  words  are  too  clumsy  or  too  colorless  to 


PHILOSOPHY  19 

describe.  Yet  these  unrecorded  moments  are 
usually  the  most  real,  in  the  twofold  sense  of 
being  at  once  the  most  sensibly  actual  and  the 
most  imaginatively  ideal.  The  poet  and  the 
artist  often  succeed  in  conveying  hints  of  these 
finer  nuances  of  feeling,  but  they  elude  the 
gross  methods  and  measurements  of  science  and 
the  abstract  general  formulas  of  philosophy. 
Certain  phases  of  the  routine  of  our  behavior 
may  be  described  with  precision  and  their  laws 
determined  with  a  considerable  degree  of  accu- 
racy ;  but  an  adequate  theory  is  still  lacking  of 
those  moments  of  creative  activity  and  rational 
insight  and  emotional  appreciation  in  which  we 
take  the  forward  steps  that  are  called  progress. 
In  terms  of  so  imperfect  a  medium  as  the  spoken 
or  written  word  it  is  difficult  even  to  susTsrest  the 
more  delicate  tints  of  feeling  and  the  finer  shades 
of  thought  which  are  the  real  though  invisible 
forces  which  determine  our  acts.  Yet  just  this 
has  been  the  aim  of  science  and  philosophy 
throughout  history  —  to  understand  and  state 
the  laws  by  which  we  progressively  evolve  what 
we  call  experience  or  reality. 

One  need  not  apologize  for  the  use  of  lan- 
guage in  trying  to  express  scientific  and  philo- 
sophic ideas.  All  words  at  bottom  are  equivo- 


20  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

cations,  and  the  most  logical  reasoning'  only 
succeeds  in  chalk-marking  the  ambiguous  mid- 
A  Rational  ^^®  terms.  In  truth,  the  very  signifi- 
Mysticism.  q^^qq  of  the  middle  term  lies  in  its 
ambiguity  at  the  start :  the  process  of  the  in- 
vestigation is  just  to  clear  up  such  ambigu- 
ity. Philosophy  is  itself  merely  a  stage  in  the 
progressive  definition  of  experience.  As  long  as 
we  are  obliged  to  employ  so  imperfect  a  vehicle 
as  human  language,  we  cannot  avoid  a  kind  of 
circle  in  all  formal  reasoning.  But  it  need  not  be 
a  vicious  circle.  Even  the  scientist  and  philoso- 
pher must  suggest  poetically,  as  it  were  between 
the  lines,  what  cannot  be  expressed  didactically 
in  verbally  consistent  terms.  He  must  learn  to 
rhapsodize  more  or  less  if  he  would  not  ampu- 
tate his  thought  to  fit  the  Procrustean  limits 
of  mere  words.  Language-forms  are  themselves 
but  the  inert  precipitate  of  thoughts  which  have 
volatilized  to  higher  spheres.  There  is  a  rational 
place  for  mysticism  even  in  science.  If  we  are 
to  have  a  philosophy  of  life  it  must  pay  the  price 
of  being  inadequate  in  this  sense.  But  if  at  the 
beginning  we  clearly  recognize  this  inevitable 
ambiguity,  we  have  removed  its  harmfulness 
from  our  subsequent  philosophizing. 

A  third  objection  to  philosophy  is  raised  by 


PHILOSOPHY  21 

the  man  of  science,  and  the  reply  to  this  is  con- 
tained in  the  new  instrumental  or  functional 
theory  of  knowledge  set  forth  by  Pro-  ^he  Man  of 
fessor  Dewey  and  his  school.  The  man  ^''*^'^<=®- 
of  science  criticises  philosophy  for  being  too 
theoretical  in  the  sense  of  speculative,  "not 
sticking  to  the  facts."  The  metaphysician,  he 
says,  is  prone  to  spin  a  universe  out  of  his  own 
inner  consciousness,  and  tries  to  make  the  facts 
fit  his  ideal  system.  Once  again,  pragmatism 
meets  the  objection  by  admitting  its  force  so  far 
as  past  systems  of  philosophy  are  concerned,  and 
seeks  to  win  the  cooperation  of  the  scientist  in 
constructing  a  philosophy  which  will  be  accu- 
rate in  its  method. 

The  pragmatist,  however,  reminds  the  man  of 
science  that  he  is  not  free  from  speculation  in 
his  own  enterprise,  that  hypothesis  is  Antagonism 
one  of  the  leadino-  instruments  of  scien-  "^  pii"oso- 

o  phy  and 

tific  research,  that  his  whole  procedure  science. 
is  shot  through  and  through  with  metaphysical 
presuppositions  which  are  the  more  prejudicial 
because  unsuspected.  The  aim  of  the  jDragmatic 
philosophy  is  to  apply  to  metaphysical  specula- 
tion the  test  of  scientific  exactness,  on  the  one 
hand,  and,  on  the  other,  to  help  the  scientist  to 
bring  to  clear  self-consciousness  his  own  logi- 


22  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

cal  assumptions.  This  involves,  not  only  a  new 
conception  of  philosophy,  but  also  a  new  con- 
ception of  science  in  its  relation  to  philosophy. 
The  enlightened  philosophy  of  to-day,  instead 
of  being  antagonistic  to  science,  confesses  de- 
pendence upon  it.  Both  begin  with  concrete 
experience,  with  the  meaning  of  life  as  we  live  it. 
During  the  greater  part  of  our  lives  we  act  impul- 
sively, feel  directly,  think  attuitively.  This  is 
our  practical  consciousness,  the  consciousness  of 
e  very-day  life.  But  when  we  become  scientists  and 
philosophers,  we  begin  to  ask  How  ?  and  Why? 
we  inquire  into  the  causes  and  reasons  for  things. 
We  examine,  criticise,  and  revise  the  notions 
of  ordinary  experience.  We  discover  contradic- 
tions among  the  various  ideas  upon  which  com- 
mon sense  has  relied,  and  seek  to  make  them 
consistent.  When  the  emphasis  is  on  the  inves- 
tigation of  specific  details,  this  is  called  science  j 
when  it  is  on  the  general  principles  of  explana- 
tion, it  is  called  philosophy.  But  science  and  phi- 
losophy presuppose  each  other ;  they  are  integral 
parts  of  experience  when  it  is  reflective  and 
critical.  A  science  which  is  "anti-metaphysical" 
and  a  philosophy  which  is  "  transcendental "  de- 
feat their  own  end.  Either  without  the  other  is 
a  fragment.    A  science  which  disdains  philoso- 


PHILOSOPHY  23 

phy  is  like  a  part  which  should  deny  its  depend- 
ence upon  the  whole.  A  philosophy  which  de- 
spises science  is  like  the  whole  which  should 
deny  that  it  is  made  up  of  parts.  They  differ 
only  as  the  specific  and  the  generic,  as  the  par- 
ticular facts  and  the  universal  meaning  or  law 
which  explains  the  facts.  Philosophy  is  just  the 
theoretical  part  —  the  logic  of  experience,  the 
methodology  of  science.  We  should  speak,  not 
of  philosophy  and  science,  but  of  the  philosophy 
of  science,  just  as  we  are  learning  to  speak,  not 
of  theory  and  practice,  but  of  the  theory  of 
practice.  True  philosophy,  Professor  Dewey 
says,  is  simply  the  intrinsic  metaphysic  of  sci- 
ence, its  modus  operandi  brought  to  conscious- 
ness. It  is  the  "  reconstruction  of  experience 
through  the  clear  and  ordered  recognition  of 
the  method  of  experience." 

The  wings  of  metaphysical  speculation  are 
clipped.  Philosophy,  however,  is  not  relegated 
to  the  left-overs.  The  subject-matter  of  luterde- 
philosophy,  as  ordinarily  conceived,  is  sdili'cTa^a 
the  scientist's  methodological  scrap-  ^^""ophy. 
heap.  All  the  residual  problems  which  he  shoves 
aside  as  unimportant  or  irrelevant  are  turned 
over  to  philosophy,  which,  as  the  various  sciences 
successively  split  off  from  the  parent  stem,  has 


24  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

thus  to  be  satisfied  with  the  vague  chaos  of  gen- 
eral opinions  which  have  not  yet  come  under 
scientific  scrutiny.  On  such  a  view  philosophy 
can  never  hope  to  occupy  a  position  of  dignity 
in  the  intellectual  world ;  for  as  soon  as  the 
human  intellect  takes  up  seriously  one  of  these 
remaining  problems  and  subjects  it  to  careful 
experimental  study,  it  ceases  to  be  called  phi- 
losophy and  is  scored  to  the  credit  of  science. 
The  result  is  that  the  field  of  philosophy  be- 
comes more  and  more  restricted,  until  finally 
science  occupies  the  whole  field  and  philosophy 
has  only  an  historical  significance. 

The  name,  to  be  sure,  is  unimportant,  — 
whether  it  be  called  philosophy  or  science, — 
but  the  fact  is  that  as  science  has  gradually 
encroached  upon  the  field  of  the  so-called  phi- 
losophical subject-matter,  her  method  has  been 
becoming  more  and  more  philosophic  :  that  is  to 
say,  with  the  progress  of  science  it  becomes  in- 
creasingly necessary  to  go  beyond  the  confines 
of  a  particular  science  in  order  to  explain  any 
one  of  its  facts.  Hence  the  appearance  of  the 
hyphen-sciences  and  of  the  comparative  method, 
which  have  grown  up  in  the  interstices  of  the 
sciences  as  formerly  classified.  Now,  in  so  far 
as  an  explanatory  law  extends  beyond  the  pro- 


PHILOSOPHY  25 

vince  of  the  particular  science,  it  is  what,  in  the 
history  of  thought,  has  been  called  a  philosophic 
principle,  and  inasmuch  as  science  to-day  is  in- 
creasingly comparative  in  its  method,  it  follows 
that  it  is  becoming  increasingly  philosophic. 
Instead  of  philosophy  being  condemned  to  the 
unclassified  residuum,  it  is  becoming  the  very 
methodology  of  science.  Each  scientist  is  per- 
force becoming  philosophic  in  order  to  under- 
stand the  implications  of  his  own  procedure.  It 
behooves  the  man  of  science  to  realize  this,  and 
it  behooves  the  old-fashioned  metaphysician, 
who  supposes  that  his  method  is  distinct  from 
that  of  science,  to  realize  that  the  only  fruitful 
philosopliizing  that  is  going  on  at  the  present 
time  is  at  the  hands  of  the  philosophic  scientists 
and  the  scientific  philosophers. 

One  of  the  main  contributions  to  this  new 
conception  of  the  relation  of  philosophy  to  sci- 
ence is  contained  in  the  instrumental- 
ism  of  Professor  Dewey.  The  main  instnunen- 
contention  of  this  theory  is  that  ideas 
are  instrumental  to  action  :  they  are  secondary, 
derived  from  action,  and  they  are  teleological, 
dynamogenic,  point  forward  to  action,  and,  in 
so  far  as  they  win  a  permanent  place  as  ideas, 
it  is  just  as  delicate  types  of  action-systems. 


26  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

The  reflective  or  mediating  modes  of  experience 
are  instrumental  to  the  immediate  forms  of  feel- 
ing and  conduct. 

It  follows  that  the  formal  logic  which  was 
elaborated  out  of  relation  to  the  emotional  and 
volitional  needs  of  life,  and  is  consequently  cor- 
rect only  in  so  far  as  it  remains  abstract,  and 
valid  only  inasmuch  as  it  refers  to  nothing  in 
particular  in  the  world  of  concrete  values,  —  it 
follows  that  this  logic  will  not  meet  the  require- 
ments of  a  scientific  method  which  is  seeking  to 
explain  the  actual  world  of  phenomena  condi- 
tioned by  human  interests  and  purposes.  The 
instrumental  logic,  in  other  words,  is  an  attempt 
to  make  philosophy  scientific  and  science  philo- 
sophic, and  pragmatism  means  instrumentalism 
in  this  sense. 

§  2.    PHILOSOPHY  AS  METHOD 

When  one  reflects  upon  the  diversity  of  hu- 
man experience  —  with  its  science,  industry. 
Philosophy  religion,  art,  society,  government  —  he 
and  sjm-"°  realizes  the  need  of  devoting  some  time 
thetic.         ^Q  ^^Q  ^^gjj.  q£  trying  to  see   it  as   a 

whole.  This  is  the  work  of  philosophy.  It  seeks 
to  penetrate  beneath  the  superficialities  of  every- 
day life,  with  its  uncriticised  assumptions,  its 


PHILOSOPHY  27 

petty  politics  and  futile  dogmatisms  ;  while  it 
undertakes  equally,  on  the  other  hand,  to  avoid 
the  fallacy  of  over-specialization  to  which  civil- 
ized man  with  his  highly  differentiated  practical 
and  intellectual  pursuits  is  especially  liable.  To 
attain  a  view  which  shall  be  at  once  profound 
in  insight  and  comprehensive  in  outlook,  it  is 
necessary  to  consider  those  general  aspects  of 
things  which  ordinary  experience  is  apt  to  ig- 
nore, and  to  co-relate  phases  of  reality  which 
otherwise  are  apt  to  remain  isolated  because  of 
the  very  exhaustiveness  with  which  they  are 
studied  by  different  classes  of  men  in  their  nar- 
row fields  of  investigation  and  with  their  special 
methods  of  research. 

Philosophy  is  synoptic  and  synthetic.  But  the 
problem  is  not  simply  one  of  correlation.  Phi- 
losophy is  analytic  as  well :  it  seeks  to  PMiosophy 
understand  the  differences  and  multi-  of  S^^^ 
plicity  as  well  as  the  identity  and  unity  derstl^d"* 
of  things.  It  is  interested  in  the  dis-  ^^®"- 
tinctions  men  make,  especially  in  how  they  come 
to  make  them.  Philosophers  too  often  have  been 
content  with  the  mere  classifying  of  things,  di- 
viding experience  into  aspects  such  as  Mind  and 
Matter,  Subject  and  Object,  One  and  Many, 
Ideal   and   Real.  But  a  true  philosophy  goes 


28  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

back  of  sucli  analysis  and  asks  why  we  make 
these  distinctions,  why  we  divide  here  and  unite 
there.  It  seeks  the  reason  for  the  opposition  of 
phases.  It  brings  to  consciousness  the  meaning 
of  the  antitheses  of  our  common  sense  and  scien- 
tific thinking,  for  the  purpose  of  better  under- 
standing their  underlying  assumptions.  It  is 
concerned  with  distinctions  and  classifications 
because  they  stand  for  some  fundamental 
method  and  law  of  our  expanding  life.  Critical 
examination  of  the  postulates  of  our  thinking 
discloses  many  unanswered  questions,  many  un- 
solved problems.  But  more  important  than  the 
enumeration  and  classification  of  specific  prob- 
lems is  the  attempt  to  understand  the  nature, 
the  origin,  and  growth  of  a  problem  anywhere. 
The  problem  of  philosophy  is  the  problem  of  the 
nature  of  a  problem.  It  is  human  experience 
striving  to  understand  itself.  Philosophy  seeks 
the  underlying  principle  of  an  experience, 
whether  it  be  an  ultimate  mystery  or  a  practical 
issue  of  every-day  life  :  it  is  the  progressive  sys- 
tematizing of  knowledge  on  the  basis  of  scien- 
tific principles,  with  the  aim  of  working  out  a 
method  of  managing  experience. 

Philosophy,  thus  conceived,  is  relevant  to 
the  needs  of  life,  no  less  than  art,  religion,  or 


PHILOSOPHY  29 

science.    The  place  of  science  has  long  been 
admitted.    Relisiou  is  now  reofarded  as  an  or- 
Sfanic  part  of  human  experience.    The 
value  or  art   is   daily   coming    to    be  isthesci- 

"^      .  ^  ence  of  the 

more  adequately  appreciated,  nut  the  Principles 
value  of  philosophy  for  life  is  seen  by 
comparatively  few  persons :  it  is  regarded  as 
a  department  of  inquiry  beyond  the  scope  of 
the  average  man,  if  not  quite  foreign  to  his 
needs.  But  the  truth  is  that  philosophy  is  as 
intimately  related  to  life  as  religion,  art,  or 
science,  because  it  is  the  method  implicit  in 
them.  Since  science  is  the  most  controlled,  ac- 
curate, critical,  and  systematic  phase  of  human 
experience,  we  naturally  look  to  it  for  the  most 
important  suggestions  as  to  philosophic  method. 
If  the  paramount  importance  of  the  scientific 
concepts  be  admitted,  then  philosophy  may  be 
defined  as  the  science  of  the  sciences,  because  it 
is  the  science  of  the  principles  of  science.  It  is 
related  to  life  even  more  intimately  than  any 
one  of  the  special  branches  of  science,  since  it 
embraces  the  underlying  methods  and  principles 
of  them  all.  Philosophy  becomes  itself  a  way  of 
living  :  it  is  the  living  of  life  on  a  larger,  fuller, 
deeper,  truer  scale  :  it  grasps  and  holds  together 
in  a  comprehensive  synthesis  the  various  strands 


30  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

which  make  up  our  complex  life,  striving  to 
make  such  a  synthesis  as  coherent  as  possible 
in  the  light  of  our  present  scientific  knowledge 
of  the  universe.  To  act  for  the  future  as  well 
as  the  present  in  the  light  of  the  past ;  to  feel 
finely  because  discriminatingly ;  to  think  fear- 
lessly but  considerately  ;  to  live  in  terms  of  the 
more  remote  implications  of  our  deeds ;  to  see 
the  whole  in  the  part  and  the  ideal  in  the  actual ; 
not  to  be  satisfied  with  the  immediate  values 
which  chance  or  impulse  throws  in  our  way,  but 
to  insist  that  they  shall  be  mediated  by  other 
values  not  directly  given :  this  is  wisdom.  And 
this  is  the  truth  which  philosophy,  the  search 
for  science,  has  to  offer  us. 

Philosophy  may  be  briefly   defined  as  the 
general  theory  of  experience.  It  is  general  as 

distinguished  from  the  more  special- 
oi  Phuoso-  ized  fields  of  investio-ation.  The  search- 

light  of  science  must  be  supplemented 
by  the  world-view  of  philosophy.  It  is  tlieory, 
as  distinguished  from  practice,  but  it  is  the 
theory  of  practice.  Philosophy  is  not  mere  specu- 
lation ;  it  is  the  method  of  science,  and  abstrac- 
tions are  the  tools.  It  is  theory  of  experience : 
it  attempts  to  explain  the  meaning  of  life  as  we 
live  it,  not  the  mysteries  of  a  reality  which  lies 


PHILOSOPHY  31 

beyond.  According  to  whether  the  emphasis  is 
placed  on  "  experience  "or  on  "  theory,"  philoso- 
phy is  empiricistic  or  idealistic  in  its  method. 

Pragmatism,  in  the  first  place,  is  empiricistic. 
If  philosophy  is  to  be  practical  and  personal  and 
instrumental,  it  must  begin  with  con-  Empirical 
Crete  experience,  not  with  an  assumed  prama- 
reality  beyond  nor  with  an  abstracted  ^*°'- 
aspect.  It  must  begin  with  the  full  tide  of  life 
as  we  live  it,  and  try  to  understand  it  from 
within,  not  seek  to  leap  out  of  experience  to 
some  transcendental  vantage-ground  from  which 
the  procession  might  be  watched  from  without. 
Nor  will  philosophy  begin  with  such  partial  as- 
pects as  mind  and  matter,  nor  with  such  ter- 
minal problems  as  origin  and  destiny,  but  it 
will  endeavor,  by  a  patient  study  of  the  way 
in  which  experience  goes  on  in  the  present  mo- 
ment of  consciousness,  to  construct  the  law  of 
the  process  by  which  it  goes  on  in  other  mo- 
ments. This  is  the  empirical  principle  of  prag- 
matism. As  Professor  Dewey  puts  it.  Reality  is 
what  it  is  experienced  as.  Or,  as  Hegel  long 
since  phrased  it,  the  laws  of  thought  are  the 
laws  of  things. 

This  empirical  point  of  view  has  several  im- 
portant implications.  It  implies,  for  one  thing. 


32  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

that  the  distinction  between  experience  and 
reahty  is  not  an  absolute  one,  not  an  ontolog- 
Reaiityand  ical  distinction,  as  the  metaphysicians 
Experience.  ^^^^    -^^^    ^^j^   ^    methodological    or 

functional  one.  It  no  more  represents  a  dis- 
tinctness in  existence  than  does  the  distinc- 
tion of  the  How  and  the  What  of  anything, 
or  the  distinction  of  process  and  content.  Ex- 
perience regarded  from  the  point  of  view  of 
what  it  is,  its  content,  its  filling  of  objects  and 
events,  we  call  reality.  Reality,  regarded  from 
the  point  of  view  of  how  it  goes  on  or  the  way  in 
which  it  occurs  in  consciousness,  that  is,  viewed 
as  a  process  of  evolution  here  and  now,  we  call 
experience.  A  moment  of  consciousness  is  a 
sample  of  how  reality  evolves.  An  object  in 
space  or  an  event  in  time  is  a  sample  of  the 
content  of  this  evolving  process.  Reality  viewed 
in  longitudinal  section,  as  a  process,  gives  us 
what  we  call  experience.  Experience  taken  in 
cross-section  yields  a  content  which  we  call 
reality. 

In  the  second  place,  mind  or  consciousness  is 
what  it  seems  to  be  —  a  transformation-phase 
Reality  and  of  experience,  not  a  separate  entity, 
ness.  The  distinction  of  mind  and  body  and 

their  alleged  disparateness  and  supposed  par- 


PHILOSOPHY  33 

allelism  is  a  pseudo-problem  created  by  the 
methodological  inutilities  of  a  prejudiced  meta- 
physics. Just  as  the  hypostasizing  of  the  dis- 
tinction of  reality  and  experience  gave  rise  to 
the  tedious  detour  of  the  epistemological  prob- 
lem, so  the  erection  of  the  practical  distinc- 
tion between  the  psychical  and  the  physical 
into  an  ontological  chasm  has  produced  the 
paradox  of  mind  and  matter  in  metaphysics. 
Aristotle's  doctrine  of  entelechy  was  nearer 
the  truth,  which  sought  to  define  what  a  thing 
is  in  terms  of  what  it  does,  in  terms  of  its 
behavior  and  functions,  and  in  terms  of  how  it 
came  to  be  what  it  is,  its  genesis  and  growth. 
Consciousness,  the  mind,  the  soul,  is  to  be  de- 
fined as  a  physical  object  is  defined  in  science: 
a  molecule  or  an  atom  is  defined  in  the  physics 
of  to-day  as  the  sum  of  its  attributes,  the  syn- 
thesis of  the  relations  in  which  it  stands.  Con- 
sciousness no  longer  may  be  regarded  as  an 
entity,  nor  as  the  attribute  or  epiphenomenal 
manifestation  of  an  entity;  it  must  be  defined, 
as  everything  else  in  modern  science,  as  a  rela- 
tion or  system  of  relationships.  Reality,  Lotze 
said,  means  standing-in-relations,  a  thing  is  where 
it  acts,  Being  is  Doing.  If  this  is  true,  then 
consciousness  is  what  it  seems  to  be  —  a  tran- 


34  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

sition  phase  of  the  contents  of  experience  un- 
der certain  conditions  in  which  they  are  under- 
going reconstruction  into  something  else.  It  is 
not  a  different  kind  of  reality  nor  a  permanent 
parallel  aspect  of  material  existence,  but  a  mode 
of  experience  in  the  phase  of  metamorphosis 
into  further  experience. 

A  third  implication  of  this  pragmatic  em- 
piricism concerns  our  relation  to  the  making 
Reautyin  ^^  reality.  There  is  a  sense  in  which 
the  Making,  reality  is  given  and  a  sense  in  which  it 
is  made.  As  Mr.  Schiller  says,  you  may  "  find 
yourself  in  love,"  or  you  may  "make  love." 
You  may  wish  for  a  chair  and  find  one,  have 
one  given  to  you,  or  you  may  wish  for  a  chair 
and  invent  one,  make  one.  Is  reality  discovered 
or  created  by  knowledge  ?  Are  the  objects  which 
form  the  content  of  experience  revealed  or  con- 
stituted by  consciousness?  This  is  one  of  the 
age-old  problems  of  philosophy,  which  has  di- 
vided thinkers  into  transcendentalists  and  em- 
piricists, nativists  and  evolutionists.  Taking 
the  two  terms  of  the  distinction  abstractly,  it 
seems  that  in  the  final  analysis  something  must 
be  absolutely  given,  on  the  one  hand,  yet,  on 
the  other,  that  something  is  absolutely  created. 
It  appears  that  there  is  nothing  new  under  the 


PHILOSOPHY  35 

sun,  and  yet  that  everything  changes.  If  all  is 
given,  then  the  apjDarent  progress  and  freshness 
of  our  feelings  is  an  illusion,  and  if  any  single 
part  of  experience  is  absolutely  given,  the  whole 
must  be  given,  as  the  absolute  idealists  have 
been  logical  enough  to  see.  On  the  other  hand, 
if  all  is  created,  what  is  to  save  us  from  solip- 
sism? The  answer  is  that  neither  term  of  the 
distinction  is  to  be  taken  abstractly.  Given 
means  taken  as  given  for  the  situation,  while 
made  or  created  means  produced  anew  relative 
to  some  interest  or  need,  not  created  ex  nihilo. 
Our  givings  and  takings,  our  acquiescences 
and  imperatives,  are  not  ultimate  and  abstract, 
but  relative  in  the  sense  of  relevant  to  the 
proximate  needs  of  concrete  issues.  Taken  ab- 
stractly, these  complementary  principles  have 
significance  only  as  limiting  concepts  like  the 
infinite  and  infinitesimal  in  calculus:  thev  are 
signs  of  operations  to  be  performed,  not  abso- 
lute realities  blocking  progress.  There  is  no  ex- 
perience in  general  or  in  the  abstract,  no  abso- 
lute experience;  experience  is  always  in  specific 
centres  of  concrete  interest  and  value.  Hence, 
questions  of  the  absolute  origin  or  absolute 
givenness  of  reality  are  unintelligible  because 
irrelevant.  We  participate  in  the  evolution  of 


36  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

reality  by  every  moment  of  conscious  experi- 
ence. The  truth  hasn't  all  happened  yet,  as 
Professor  James  says.  Kant  was  right  in  a 
sense  when  he  said  that  the  understanding  cre- 
ates the  world.  But  it  is  equally  true  that  for 
any  particular  individual  and  for  any  particular 
moment  of  conscious  experience,  the  high-lights 
of  attentional  consciousness  are  set  over  against 
a  background  of  what,  for  the  situation,  must 
be  taken  as  given  —  and  this  is  the  truth  the 
metaphysical  realists  have  built  into  a  wall  of 
separation  between  a  subjective  and  an  object- 
ive world. 

These  are  some  of  the  implications  of  the 
pragmatic  philosophy  as  a  doctrine  of  empiri- 
Theideai-  cism.  But  it  is  likewise  idealistic,  and 
oi"pragma-  ^^^^  ^^  ^^^^  ^^^J  Consistent  with,  but  ab- 
^^^-  solutely  indispensable  to  the  integrity 

of  the  empirical  side  of  its  method. 

The  pragmatic  philosophy,  by  virtue  of  the 
fact  that  it  purports  to  be  a  philosophy,  is  a 
form  of  idealism.  All  philosophies  are  idealistic 
in  the  deepest  sense  of  the  word  —  they  are 
simply  developed  ideas  of  the  universe.  Prag- 
matic idealism  is  only  a  closer  knit  synthesis  of 
practice  and  theory  than  other  forms  of  phi- 
losophy. If  we  define  idealism  as  any  philosophy 


PHILOSOPHY  37 

which  finds  the  key  to  the  nature  of  reality  in 
•ideas,  then  pragmatism  is  a  form  of  ideaHsm, 
since  it  is  itself  a  theory,  an  idea,  a  conception, 
a  philosophy  of  experience.  There  is  no  neces- 
sary antagonism  between  pragmatism  and  ideal- 
ism, since  there  is  no  necessary  conflict  between 
practice  and  theory.  Pragmatism  is  not  opposed 
to  theory,  but  only  to  bad  theory ;  it  is  not  op- 
posed to  ideas,  but  only  to  ideas  that  do  not 
work  in  practice  ;  it  is  not  opposed  to  ideals, 
but  only  to  ideals  that  do  not  stand  in  organic 
relation  to  life. 

The  idealistic  phase  of  pragmatism  is  to  be 
found  in  its  theory  of  knowledge,  in  its  doctrine 
of  the  relation  of  ideas  to  action.  Think-  pramatio 
ing,  it  holds,  is  action  in  process  of  ^i^eaiism. 
transformation  into  more  adequate  action ;  the 
pragmatic  philosophy  is  only  human  action  or 
practice  passing  into  the  idea  or  theory  phase 
for  the  sake  of  evolving  a  more  adequate  prac- 
tice. Whether  pragmatism  is  idealistic  in  either 
of  the  other  two  historically  important  senses 
of  the  word,  which  hold  respectively  that  ulti- 
mate reality  is  mental  (metaphysical  idealism), 
and  that  the  objective  world  has  no  existence 
independent  of  a  knowing  subject  (epistemo- 
logical  idealism),  is  easily  answered:  it  is  not. 


38  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

These  forms  of  idealism,  as  Mr.  Schiller  and 
Professor  James  and  Professor  Dewey  in  their 
different  ways  have  shown,  are  simply  methodo- 
logical circumlocutions  produced  by  the  inter- 
position of  false  issues  by  an  aprioristic  precon- 
ception. 

As  long  as  men  stop  their  practice  now  and 
again  to  think,  they  will  be  idealists.  As  long 
as  the  process  of  experience  is  more  than  a  mere 
blind  rule-of-thumb,  accidental  fumbling,  slow 
learning  by  the  method  of  trial  and  error, 
as  long  as  human  progress  takes  place  by  ex- 
periment and  invention  as  well  as  by  repetition 
and  imitation,  the  philosophy  of  experience 
must  in  the  deepest  sense  of  the  word  be  ideal- 
istic. Ideas  are  not  copies  of  realities  beyond 
experience,  but  are  certain  contents  which,  be- 
cause of  their  inadequacy,  are  undergoing  re- 
vision in  that  mode  of  consciousness  which  we 
call  knowledge:  and  consciousness  and  cogni- 
tion are  merely  names  for  reality  when  thus 
undergoing  reorganization  from  within.  Ideas, 
as  Professor  Dewey  says,  looked  at  negatively 
and  in  relation  to  the  practice  which  is  break- 
ing down,  are  simply  facts  which  have  come 
under  suspicion.  Thus  we  say  that  the  sun-going- 
around-the-earth  is  a  mere  idea  because  it  has 


PHILOSOPHY  39 

become  doubted:  we  call  it  an  illusion.  Looked 
at  positively,  in  relation  to  further  practice,  an 
idea  is  a  plan  of  action ;  it  is  one  part  of  experi- 
ence used  as  a  means  of  getting  further  expe- 
rience. There  is  no  chasm  between  the  world 
of  things  and  the  world  of  thoughts ;  thoughts 
are  things  viewed  in  process  of  becoming  some- 
thing different  from  what  in  relation  to  the 
needs  of  former  practice  they  have  been.  From 
this  point  of  view  there  is  no  need  for  a  time- 
less, processless,  inscrutable  Absolute  to  guar- 
antee the  integrity  of  a  subjective-objective, 
mind-matter,  ego-alter  world :  the  only  absolute 
required  is  the  concrete  process  gf  experience 
itself.  There  is  no  absolutely  absolute  absolute, 
just  as  there  is  no  absolutely  relative  relative. 
Absolute  idealism  and  absolute  skepticism  are 
self-contradictory  limiting  conceptions,  neither 
of  which  is  true  taken  by  itself,  but  each  of  which 
is  useful  in  refuting  the  other  by  throwing  it 
back  upon  the  concrete  process  whence  it  is 
derived  and  where  alone  it  is  significant. 

Quite  the  most  delightful  humor  of  the  pre- 
sent philosophical  situation  is  the  way  in  which 
the  pragmatists  in  practice  repudiate  pragma- 
tism as  a  theory,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
pragmatic  theorists  fail  to  see  their  own  incor- 


40  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

rigible  idealism.    Rotund  in  the  complacency 
with  which  they  reg^ard  their  abstract 

The  Prag-  .  . 

matists  In     idcals,  which  they  sentimentally  revere 

PracUoe.         ,  i  i  • 

but  never  use,  the  actual  pragmatists 
look  with  contempt  upon  the  theory  of  their  own 
practice  when  some  ingenuous  idealist  seeks 
to  formulate  it  for  them.  For  what  is  pragmatic 
theory  to  him  who  is  a  pragmatist  in  conduct? 
It  is  heresy,  blasphemy,  anarchy — destruction 
of  established  ideals  which  must  be  protected  at 
all  hazards  from  any  pollution  by  the  "  given 
case."  He  does  not  realize  that  he  is  destroying 
the  only  theoretically  sound  basis  of  his  own 
practice,  that  his  so-called  ideals  are  simply 
masks  to  conceal  the  irregularity  and  irration- 
ality of  his  practice. 

But  the  full  humor  of  the  situation  does  not 
appear  until  we  turn  to  the  supposed  teachers 
The  Pra  ^^  pragmatism  —  the  pragmatists  in 
matists  in     thcorv.  Thcv  are  not  real  pra2"matists, 

Theory.  j  j  l       o  ' 

most  of  them,  but  ideaHsts.  They  have 
developed  pragmatism  as  a  means  of  realizing  a 
new  ideal  in  philosophy  which  seems  more  valu- 
able to  them  than  any  of  the  old  ideals.  The 
fact  that  the  new  ideal  is  not  consciously  pre- 
sent or  clearly  worked  out  does  not  alter  the 
case.  The  function  of  the  ^philosophical  pragma- 


PHILOSOPHY  41 

tist  of  the  day  is  not  to  supplant  the  various  forms 
of  idealism  which  have  held  sway,  but  to  make 
their  ideals  operative  as  forces  in  the  world  of 
actual  conditions  and  causes.  He  brings  ideals 
down  to  earth ;  he  does  not  destroy  them.  The 
positive  mission  of  the  pragmatic  theorist  is  to 
show  men  how  to  use  ideals  as  genuine  dynamic 
functional  realities,  instead  of  sentimentally  wor^ 
shiping  them  in  their  inviolable  isolation.  Prag- 
matism means,  not  the  opportunism  or  expedi- 
ency philosophy  which  too  often  is  the  only 
working  theory  of  the  man  of  affairs ;  it  finds 
the  ideal  in  the  conditions,  cultivates  and  guides 
its  growth  loithin  the  given  case,  and  formulates 
it  by  reading  off  the  "  law  of  the  process  "  by 
which  those  very  conditions  have  given  rise  to 
the  given  case. 

Men  cannot  get  along,  and  remain  civilized, 
without  ideals.  It  is  not  only  the  lover,  idolizing 
the  object  of  his  affection,  who  is  actuated  by 
ideals  :  the  successful  statesman,  scientist,  or 
man  of  business,  is  always  an  idealist.  He  has 
insight  and  outlook  —  a  point  of  view  —  which 
transform  the  world  of  facts  from  a  brute  mass 
of  obstruction  and  baffling  perplexity  into  a  sys- 
tematic scheme  or  plan  for  bringing  things  to 
pass.  His  scheme  may  be  false  in  certain  particu- 


42  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

lars,  but  he  can  no  more  get  along  without  some 
centrahzing  intellectual  machinery  than  a  com- 
plex organism  can  get  along  without  a  central 
nervous  system  or  a  complex  civilization  without 
its  methods  of  communication.  Ideals  are  simply 
codes,  customs,  institutions,  habits  undergoing 
reconstruction  in  the  medium  of  the  direct  emo- 
tional appreciation  and  rational  insight  of  indi- 
viduals. A  philosophy  must  at  bottom  be  an 
idealism  because  it  is  a  theory  of  human  pro- 
gress—  it  seeks  to  deal  in  idea  methodically  with 
all  the  conditions  by  which  man  evolves  an  in- 
creasingly enriched  experience.  But  experience 
is  not  thus  mediated  when  certain  standards, 
relevant  in  some  past  situation,  are  carried  over 
bodily  and  unrevised  into  new  conditions.  This 
is  the  fallacy  of  most  of  the  rationalistic  and 
absolutistic  forms  of  idealism  which  have  held 
sway.  Accepted  types  of  thought  and  action  are 
imposed  on  a  new  situation  ;  and  where  the  new 
conditions  do  not  fit  the  rigid  framework  of  the 
old  standard,  effort  is  made  to  force  them  into 
conformity  with  it.  This  is  the  obstructive  aspect 
of  absolutism  against  which  pragmatism  has 
raised  its  timely  protest  and  its  demand  that  all 
the  factors  of  a  situation  must  be  represented 
constructively  in  the  result. 


PHILOSOPHY  43 

Life  is  a  game  of  skill,  and  pragmatism  is  an 
attempt  to  "play  the  game"  as  well  as  possible, 
since  perforce  we  must  play  it.  It  is  pragma, 
a  philosophy  of  work,  of  practice,  of  ^^,\,^^y 
labor,  of  the  strenuous  life.  But  it  is  °^^^^- 
not  simply  that.  Since,  as  we  have  seen,  it  is 
not  mere  practice,  but  a  theory  of  practice,  it 
is  idealistic  as  well.  But  pragmatism  is  more 
than  either  an  empiricism  or  an  idealism:  it  is 
an  immediatism  or  mysticism  in  the  good  sense 
of  the  word — it  is  a  philosophy  of  play  and  a 
branch  of  fine  art.  It  provides  for  "  moral  holi- 
days"; it  is  a  philosophy  of  that  culture  which 
in  its  leisure  is  not  idle  ;  it  finds  a  place  for  the 
feelings  and  values  and  ends  of  life  as  well  as 
for  conduct  and  ideas  and  the  means  of  living. 
The  simple  Hfe  is  as  much  its  goal  as  the  strenu- 
ous life  :  the  simple  life !  —  that  "  last  refuge 
of  complexity !  "  It  is  not  getting  away  from 
complexity  that  pragmatism  recommends,  but 
controlling  complexity  in  relation  to  the  attain- 
ment of  the  values  of  life ;  not  the  simple  life, 
but  the  simplified  life.  And  among  other  means 
of  the  control  of  cultured  living,  a  true  phi- 
losophy finds  its  place:  first,  as  a  balance-wheel 
to  the  tangential  tendencies  of  lop-sided  com- 
mon sense,  with  its  uncommon  stupidities  and 


44  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

rigidities  and  foreshortening  of  view;  second, 
as  a  clearing-house  for  balancing  up  the  credit 
and  debit  accounts  of  science  in  relation  to  this 
great  problem  of  the  control  of  the  conditions 
of  living;  and  third,  as  an  enhancement  of  the 
appreciation  of  the  values  of  life  in  emotional 
and  personal  terms,  by  seeing  all  knowledge 
and  conduct  in  their  widest  cosmic  and  deepest 
spiritual  implications,  and  feeling  with  Kant 
and  Tennyson  the  relation  of  the  flower  in  the 
crannied  wall  of  one's  own  dooryard  to  the 
stars  above  and  the  moral  law  within.  This  is 
pragmatism,  and  this  is  a  philosophy  which 
must  recommend  itself  to  men  and  women  of 
to-day. 

§    3.   THE  FUNCTIONAL   POrNT   OF  VIEW 

The  new  philosophy  is  a  pragmatic  idealism. 

Its  method  is  at  once  intrinsic  or  immanent,  and 

org-anic  or  functional.  By  savins:  that 

Methoa  ,    ^  .     .  J        J      o 

must  be       its  method  is  immanent  we  mean  that 

Inunanent.  .  . 

experience  must  be  interpreted  from 
within.  We  cannot  jump  out  of  our  skins,  as 
Professor  James  says;  we  cannot  pull  ourselves 
up  by  our  own  bootstraps.  We  find  ourselves 
in  mid-stream  of  the  Niagara  of  experience, 
and  may  define  what  it  is  only  by  working 


PHILOSOPHY  45 

back  and  forth  within  the  current.  "  We  don't 
know  where  we're  going,  but  we're  on  the 
way." 

To  be  at  once  consistent  theoretically  and  use- 
ful practically,  a  philosophy  must  start,  not  with 
some  abstraction  such  as  the  Great  First  Cause 
or  the  Absolute,  but  with  concrete  work-a-day 
human  life.  All  the  problems  of  origin  and  des- 
tiny which  contain  the  unsolved  enigmas  of 
metaphysics  need  to  be  restated  in  terms  of  pre- 
sent experience.  Such  a  procedure,  if  it  does  not 
actually  reduce  the  number  of  mysteries  which 
lie  about  us,  will  at  least  prevent  our  multiplying 
them  unnecessarily.  All  the  real  mysteries  of  life 
lie  in  these  questions  of  origin  and  destiny. 
Philosophical  thinking  has  too  often  begun  with 
the  attempt  to  solve  problems  of  a  remote  past 
(e.  g.  creation)  or  a  remote  future  (e.  g.  immor- 
tality). It  should  begin  with  the  attempt  to 
understand  experience  here  and  now,  and  from 
that  as  a  basis  proceed  to  a  consideration  of  these 
terminal  problems.  Not  that  the  starting-point 
and  goal  are  unimportant,  but  that  when  we 
first  come  to  consciousness  philosophically  we 
find  ourselves  already  engaged  in  the  conduct 
of  life.  This  is  the  only  point  from  which  we 
can  properly  begin  to  philosophize  —  this  sim- 


46  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

pie  naive  face- value  of  experience,  in  whicli 
subject  and  object,  the  ideal  and  the  real,  -while 
ostensibly  standing  apart,  are  yet  related  in  a 
practical  way  for  the  needs  of  action. 

Most  philosophers   have  erroneously  begun 

with  some  abstracted  aspect   instead  of   with 

the  concrete  heart  or  kernel.  Cutting 

The  Fallacy  .  .    ^  .  ■■  ^  . , . 

of  Abstrac-  experience  into  pieces  and  settling 
down  on  some  particular  fragment  that 
seems  to  embody  the  important  element,  each 
attempts  to  reconstruct  the  whole.  They  arbi- 
trarily split  reality  into  parts,  and  then  write 
volumes  to  tell  how  to  get  these  together  again. 
We  must  recognize  the  value,  the  necessity,  of 
abstractions,  of  course;  but  we  must  not  forget 
that  they  are  instrumental  in  their  function. 
Our  reflective  experience  does  involve  abstrac- 
tions from  the  concrete  totality  of  action  or  feel- 
ing ;  the  unity  becomes  a  duality  or  plurality :  but 
it  is  for  the  sake  of  synthesis  on  a  higher  level. 
Psychology,  for  example,  has  done  for  the  world 
of  thought  what  physical  science  has  done  for 
the  world  of  sense.  Physics  reduces  the  material 
world  to  certain  abstractions  —  molecules,  atoms, 
vibrations,  electrons.  Psychology  reduces  the 
world  of  consciousness  to  certain  abstractions  — 
sensations,  ideas,  feelings,  volitions.  Each  fails 


PHILOSOPHY  47 

to  see  that  the  abstraction  has  meant,  not  the 
exclusion  of  that  from  which  the  abstraction 
was  made,  but  its  implicit  assumption.  Physical 
and  mental  science  each  so  thoroughly  takes  the 
other  for  granted,  that  it  fails  to  give  that  other 
its  due.  Psychology  which  deceives  itself  into 
believing  that  it  can  get  along  without  the  help 
of  experimental  science  becomes  transcendental. 
Physics  which  tries  to  get  along  without  the 
help  of  psychology  becomes  positivistic.  The 
truth  appears  only  when  we  observe  how  these 
abstractions  arise  and  what  end  they  serve.  A 
philosophy  or  a  science  which  begins  with  an 
abstraction  and  takes  it  for  the  whole  has  made 
a  false  start.  Both  should  begin  and  end  in  con- 
crete experience. 

Of  course,  any  characterization  of  experience 
must  be  in  a  sense  abstract.  We  cannot  think 
save  in  terms  of  ideas,  and  ideas  are  always  par- 
tial aspects.  Even  in  asserting  that  experience  is 
concrete  we  employ  an  abstraction.  But,  as  we 
have  seen,  one  cannot  otherwise  say  or  think 
anything.  Our  aim  should  be,  not  to  avoid  ab- 
stractions, since  in  that  case  we  should  not  be 
able  to  think  or  speak  at  all,  much  less  write  a 
philosophy,  but  to  abstract  in  an  orderly  and 
critical  manner,  to  recognize  the  morphological 


48  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAG:MATISM 

relations,  as  it  were,  among   the  abstractions 
which  we  are  compelled,  to  make. 

By  organic  or  functional  is  meant  that  all 

distinctions  in  theory  are  true  only  in  relation 

to  the  specific  situation  within  which 

Method  ^  . 

mustte  they  are  set  up.  ihere  is  no  truth  in 
general  or  in  the  abstract :  there  are 
only  truths.  It  further  means  that  in  the  case 
of  all  the  dualisms  of  reflective  thought  which 
have  occasioned  so  much  controversy  in  the  his- 
tory of  philosophy,  each  abstract  member  of  the 
dichotomous  distinction  is  true  only  in  relation 
to  the  other.  Does  a  man  walk  more  with  his 
left  or  with  his  right  leg  ?  asks  Professor  James. 
If  he  is  lost  in  the  forest  in  the  northern  hem- 
isphere, he  may  perhaps  be  said  to  walk  more 
with  his  rio^ht  W  when  he  groes  around  in  a 
circle  to  the  left ;  but  more  important  than  the 
fact  of  inequality  is  the  fact  that  he  must  use 
them  both  and  that  they  must  cooperate  to  a 
common  end,  if  he  is  to  be  said  to  walk  at  all. 
When  I  follow  the  squirrel  around  the  tree,  do 
I  or  do  I  not  go  around  the  squirrel  ?  As  Pro- 
fessor James  here  too  has  pointed  out,  I  do,  and 
I  do  not,  go  around  the  squirrel,  according  to 
which  situation  of  "  going  around  "  is  under  dis- 
cussion. Only  by  a  functional  interpretation  of 


PHILOSOPHY  49 

the  time-honored  antinomies  is  it  possible  to 
put  any  practical  meaning  into  the  dualisms  of 
actual  and  ideal,  finite  and  infinite,  one  and  the 
many,  subject  and  object,  mind  and  matter,  ego 
and  alter,  reason  and  faith,  good  and  evil,  right 
and  wrong,  experience  and  reality,  and  the  host 
of  other  antitheses  which  the  dialectic  ingenuity 
of  sapient  man  has  teased  out  of  the  intricate 
meshwork  and  Hving  tissue  of  concrete  experi- 
ence. 

"  A  system  is  not  so  important  as  a  method." 
Whenever  science  discovers  a  new  mode  of 
thought,  all  its  work  has  to  be  done  ^  principle 
over  again.  Philosophy  is  the  attempt  °*  Mettoa. 
to  rethink  the  universe  in  the  \io-ht  of  the  new 
point  of  view.  Evolution  is  the  latest  contribu- 
tion of  this  sort.  The  lesson  of  biology  for  the 
twentieth  century  is  found  in  a  more  organic 
method  in  its  science  and  its  philosophy.  We 
have  come  to  see  that  we  must  interpret  product 
in  terms  of  process,  being  in  terms  of  becoming, 
life  in  terms  of  growth,  and  structure  in  terms 
of  function.  We  have  found  that  each  phase  of 
life  requires  to  be  interpreted  in  terms  of  every 
other  phase,  just  as  an  organ  can  be  understood 
only  in  terms  of  the  entire  organism.  General- 
izing for  a  theory  of  experience,  this  means  that 


50  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

all  categories  are  organic  and  functional,  not 
fixed  and  given.  A  true  philosophic  method  be- 
gins the  analysis  of  experience  from  within,  and 
interprets  the  various  contents  thus  analyzed 
functionally  in  terms  of  each  other  and  in  terms 
of  the  common  process. 


CHAPTER  II 

EXPERIENCE 

§   4.    THE   PHILOSOPHICAL    CONCEPTION    OF 
EXPERIENCE 

Philosophy  is  the  general  theory  of  experience. 
Its  primary  task  is  to  explain  the  meaning  o£ 
life.  To  do  this,  it  must  besfin  with  our 

...  1  •       1  Philosophy 

practical  activities  and  attitudes,  and  is  Theory  oi 

.  .  Experience. 

use  these  as  a  basis  for  testino"  all  the 
abstract  principles  of  science  and  metaphysics. 
Immediate  personal  experience  —  this  is  the 
starting-point.  We  find,  to  be  sure,  that  a  com- 
plete knowledge  of  our  own  experience  ulti- 
mately implies  a  theory  of  the  entire  universe. 
But  whatever  the  outcome,  our  philosophy  must 
be  grounded  upon  an  empirical  basis  of  concrete 
values  and  events. 

But  what  is  "  experience  "  ?  it  may  be  asked. 
We  know  until  we  are  asked,  and  then  to  an- 
swer is  not  as  easy  as  it  seems.  We 

T        P  0         1  '  P    But  what  13 

speak  01  a  man  or  wide  experience,  or  Expert- 
having  passed  through  a  trying  experi- 
ence, and  of  experiencing  religion.    And,  in  a 


62  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

way,  we  know  what  We  mean  by  these  expres- 
sions. But  the  word  becomes  ambiguous  the 
moment  it  is  used  in  a  general  sense.  Etymologi- 
cally,  experience  means  experiment  or  trial ;  and 
this  meaning  lingers  in  the  contrast  we  draw  be- 
tween personal  experience  and  hearsay,  and  in 
the  account  of  his  war-experiences  given  by  the 
veteran.  But  the  word  is  coming  to  have  a  wider 
meaning  when  used  to  express  the  totality  of 
things  for  a  person's  consciousness.  Experience, 
in  this  sense,  is  the  whole  web  of  life,  the  uni- 
verse from  an  individual  point  of  view.  This  is 
the  meaning  the  term  has  come  to  have  in  the 
idealistic  and  pragmatic  philosophy  of  the  day. 
Experience  embraces  what-I-call-my-self-and- 
all-that-I-feel-and-know-and-do.  It  is  the  dy- 
Experienco  ii^mic  systcm  or  process  of  my  life,  with 
icsys^enT  ^^^  filling  of  facts  and  ideas  and  events, 
or  Process.  J]ygj.y  particular  experience  is  bound 
up  with  a  multitude  of  other  experiences.  To 
really  know  one  little  flower,  as  the  poet  reminds 
us,  is  ultimately  to  know  eve»y thing.  Experience 
is  not  any  particular  part  or  aspect,  it  is  not  one 
phase  abstracted  from  the  rest :  it  is  all  the  parts 
as  they  interpenetrate  each  other  in  the  whole. 
Of  course  any  part  is  experience,  for  even  an 
abstraction  is  real.  But  it  is  not  the  full  reality, 


EXPERIENCE  53 

since  it  always  points  to  the  larger  system  of 
which  it  is  a  member. 

Experience,  viewed  in  this  way,  includes  all 
that  might  possibly  happen  as  well  as  all  that 
has  actually   taken   place    or   is    now 
taking  place.  It  extends  back  into  the  is  my  uni- 

VGFS6 

past  and  reaches  forward  into  the  future. 
Even  the  possible,  to  the  extent  that  it  is  a  gen- 
uine possibility,  is  a  part  of  experience.  My  ideals 
are  not  yet  actualities,  but  they  play  a  very  real 
part  in  shaping  my  life.  There  can  be  no  sense 
in  speaking  of  reality  beyond  or  outside  of  ex- 
perience, since  this  very  judgment  of  transcend- 
ence or  externality  itself  constitutes  the  relation 
which  it  sustains  to  experience.  Reality  is  what 
is  experienced — whether  actually  or  ideally, 
whether  as  fact  or  as  possibility.  The  world  of 
possible  experience  becomes,  if  anything,  the 
more  important  for  civilized  thinking  beings 
who  live  more  and  more  in  terms  of  ideals. 

Questions  fairly  spring  at  one  who  has  the 
temerity  to  follow  this  line  of  thought  to  its 
logical  conclusion.  "  Do  you  mean  to  identify 
my  experience  with  the  whole  of  reality?  If 
not,  whose  experience  is  intended  when  you  say 
that  reality  is  what  is  experienced  ?  If  there  is 
no  reality  beyond  experience,  what  becomes  of 


54  PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 

the  experience  of  my  fellow-men  ?  Do  you 
mean  that  yonder  tree  or  star  is  part  of  my 
experience  as  truly  as  my  present  emotion  or 
memory-image?"  These  questions  cannot  all 
be  answered  at  once,  but  before  we  have  fin- 
ished we  shall  have  something  to  say  in  reply 
to  each  of  them. 

In  answer  to  the  first  difficulty,  we  repeat: 
Experience  is  nothing  less  than  the  whole  sys- 
tem of  thino^s.  It  is  a  synonym  for  the 

TUs  In-  .  n  1  v  pi 

eludes  the     uuivcrse,  lor  the  totality  or  the  diver- 

Possibleas       .  p.i-  ,  i-it 

weuasthe  sity  01  thmgs  to  whicD  i  am  in  any 
way  related.  This  includes  the  other 
side  of  the  moon,  which  I  never  have  seen,  and 
the  language  of  the  inhabitants  of  Mars,  if  they 
have  any.  It  includes  the  first  whorls  of  the 
star  dust  and  the  final  catastrophe,  whether  these 
be  realities  or  simply  creations  of  the  scientific 
imagination.  If  it  be  objected  that  these  are 
things  which  by  their  very  nature  never  can  be 
experienced,  it  may  be  replied  that  in  that  case 
we  could  not  even  now  be  talking  about  them. 
They  must  be  real  in  some  sense,  to  be  the 
matter  just  now  under  discussion.  It  is  true  that 
I  have  never  had  a  visual  perception  of  the  other 
side  of  the  moon,  but  I  know  enough  about  the 
moon  to  be  sure  that  it  has  another  side,  and 


EXPERIENCE  55 

this  knowledge  is  one  of  my  ways  of  experienc- 
incr  it.  The  other  side  of  the  moon  has  all  the 
reality  that  the  sciences  of  physics  and  astro- 
nomy express  by  the  judgment  that  it  is  a 
spherical  satellite  of  the  earth  spinning  with 
it  through  space.  All  the  indirect  judgments  of 
science,  all  the  inferences  by  which  such  real- 
ities are  certified,  are  themselves  modes  of  ex- 
periencing, as  truly  as  what  I  call  immediate 
perception  of  objects  now  stimulating  my  sense- 
organs.  Not  only  so.  If  I  speak  of  it  only  to 
deny  its  existence,  I  have  thereby  experienced 
what  I  call  the  other  side  of  the  moon  to  the 
extent  at  least  of  making  it  the  content  denied. 
It  has  an  existence  as  the  subject  of  this  nega- 
tive judgment.  There  is  nothing  of  which  I  may 
speak,  nothing  that  I  can  think  or  imagine  even, 
which  does  not  in  so  far  become  a  part  of  my 
experience.  The  Centaur  has  reality  as  an  art- 
form,  even  if  the  zoologists  do  not  find  it  roam- 
ing the  forest. 

To-be  and  to-be-experienced  come  to  the  same 
thing.    Things  are  what  they  are  experienced 
as.  Everything  that  we  experience  is 
equally  real.   Even  illusions  are  real ;  Empiri- 
they  are  ideal,  as  contrasted  with  ac- 
tual realities.  In  this  "immediate  empiricism," 


56  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

as  Professor  Dewey  calls  it,  our  philosophy  is 
fundamentally  grounded.  Reality  is  experience. 
These  two  words  describe  the  same  whole  from 
different  points  of  view.  "Reality"  emphasizes 
the  content  of  experience.  "  Experience  "  em- 
phasizes the  process  of  reality.  The  one  states 
What  experience  is,  the  other  How  it  proceeds. 
Physical  science  has  dealt  so  exclusively  with 
the  What,  the  content,  that  it  has  come  to  treat 
the  facts  of  the  universe  as  if  they  existed  in- 
dependently of  the  process.  Psychological  sci- 
ence has  treated  mental  process  in  abstraction 
from  its  physical  conditions  and  results,  until 
it  has  come  to  assume  the  existence  of  a  separate 
world  of  mind  or  consciousness  distinct  from 
its  content.  The  truth  is  that  there  is  but  one 
reahty  :  the  content  of  experience.  There  is  but 
one  experience  :  the  process  of  the  evolution 
of  that  content.  We  know  nothing  of  what 
"  things  "  are  in  themselves,  apart  from  a  possi- 
ble experience.  There  are  no  "thoughts"  in  the 
abstract.  Things  are  the  contents  of  thoughts, 
while  thoughts  merely  represent  the  internal 
metamorphosis  of  things. 

Two  great  discoveries  of  science  have  trans- 
formed our  philosophical  conception  of  experi- 
ence: the  idea  of  the  dynamic  nature  of  matter 


EXPERIENCE  67 

and  the  doctrine  of  evolution.  What  a  thins"  is 
can  only  be  described  in  terms  of  what 
it  does,  its  present  nature  in  terms  of  Nothing 
its  genesis  and  growth.  Experience  or 
reality  is  self-sustaining  and  internally  differ- 
entiating. If  it  be  asked,  "  Where  does  this 
Experience  come  from  ?  "  the  question  is  irrele- 
vant. Experience  does  not  ''come  from"  any- 
where. It  is  here.  "  How  experience  became 
we  shall  never  find  out,"  says  Professor  Dewey, 
"  for  the  reason  that  experience  always  is.  We 
shall  never  account  for  it  by  referring  it  to 
something  else,  for  'something  else'  always  is 
only  for  and  in  experience."  As  Professor  James 
puts  it,  "  Though  one  part  of  our  experience 
may  lean  upon  another  part  to  make  it  what  it 
is  in  any  one  of  several  aspects  in  which  it  may 
be  considered,  experience  as  a  whole  is  self- 
containing  and  leans  on  nothing." 

§    5.   THE   SCIENTIFIC   VIEW 

Science  is  the  most  elaborate  attempt  man  has 
made  to  understand  his  experience.  Beginning 
with  a  study  of  the  external  world,  be- 

...  ,    Science. 

cause  it  was  easier  to  investisfate  and 
yielded  more  immediate  practical  returns,  he 
has  come  at  last  in  modern  times  to  the  study 


58  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

of  tlie  more  elusive  but  not  less  important 
facts  of  consciousness  and  personality.  The  aim 
throug-liout  was  to  discover  and  state  the  laws 
of  nature  in  order  to  evolve  a  better  method  of 
controlling  its  forces  in  relation  to  the  needs  of 
human  nature.  As  yet,  however,  science  has 
succeeded  in  accomplishing  this  only  in  certain 
limited  areas,  where  the  conditions  have  been 
favorable  and  where  the  ignorance  and  supersti- 
tion of  man  himself  have  stood  least  in  the  way. 
The  earliest  systematic  account,  given  by  the 
physical  sciences,  interprets  the  world  after  the 
Physical  analogy  of  human  methods  of  produc- 
aays^Na-  tion.  Nature  is  a  mechanism.  Atoms 
Mechani-  ^^®  moved  f  rom  without  through  empty 
*'*^-  space.  Material  substance  is  the  perma- 

nent core  in  which  the  physical  attributes  of 
extension  and  solidity  inhere.  This  lump-theory 
of  reality  prevailed  from  the  time  of  Democritus 
to  the  founders  of  modern  physics.  But  with 
the  progress  of  scientific  inquiry,  especially 
with  the  advance  of  experimental  investigation, 
the  fact  of  change  or  motion  became  more  and 
more  prominent,  while  the  conception  of  an  un- 
derlying substrate  gradually  receded.  The  ex- 
istence of  matter  was  not  denied,  but  its  utility 
in  its  old  static  form,  as  a  principle  of  explana- 


EXPERIENCE  59 

tion,  vanished  in  the  light  of  a  new  understand- 
ing of  the  nature  of  motion.  In  place  of  a  dead 
inert  substance,  operated  upon  from  without, 
were  substituted  the  positive  conceptions  of  en- 
ergy and  force.  In  place  of  a  static  we  have  a 
dynamic  theory  of  the  nature  of  reality.  Matter- 
at-rest  becomes  merely  an  expression  for  f orces- 
in-equilibrium.  An  atom  is  a  balance  of  vector 
activities.  Such  is  the  teaching  of  the  modern 
energistic  physics. 

But  while  this  dynamic  view  is  transforming 
physics,  another  group  of  sciences  is  coming 
into  prominence.  Althouo-h  bioloffv  ex- 

.  .      °  ''*'  Biological 

isted  alongside  of  physics  from  the  first,  science 
the  nineteenth  century  was  the  epoch  of  ture  is 
its  greatest  development.    The  state-    '^^°' 
ments  of  physics  and  chemistry  are  not  the  whole 
story.  In  addition  to  being  a  mechanism,  nature 
is  an  organism.  The  universe  is  not  simply  a  ma- 
chine, it  is  a  living  machine  ;  it  is  organic.  Here, 
again,  we  see  the  progressive  change  from  a  static 
to  a  dynamic  conception  of  life.  Early  biology 
was  content  with  a  doctrine  of  special  creation, 
fixed  species,  and  a  distinct  vital  force.  But  with 
the  rise  of  the  genetic  and  comparative  method 
in  science,  biologists  came  to  see  the  essential 
unity  and  continuity  of  all  organic  processes. 


60  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

The  concepts  of  heredity  and  transmission,  vari- 
abihty  and  selection,  development  and  evolution, 
are  the  counterpart,  in  biology,  of  the  concepts 
of  ceaseless  change  and  motion  in  physics.  And 
here,  as  before,  scientific  thought  did  not  rest 
until  it  had  generalized  the  idea.  The  world  is  a 
living  growth,  there  is  a  cosmic  life  and  evolu- 
tion. At  first  this  idea  was  restricted  to  the  plant 
and  animal  world,  but  as  investigation  showed 
the  close  interdependence  of  the  vital  and  the 
mineral  realms,  the  difference  between  the  inor- 
ganic and  the  organic  seemed  to  reduce  to  a  mere 
difference  in  degree  of  complexity  and  organiza- 
tion. If  the  chemico-physical  laws  are  to  be  ex- 
tended to  the  explanation  of  organic  processes, 
then  the  biological  categories  must,  in  turn,  be 
carried  back  to  re-interpret  the  world  of  matter 
and  motion.  If  vitalism  and  mechanism  are  inter- 
preted in  terms  of  each  other,  the  result  is  at  once 
aprofounder  sense  of  the  organic  character  of  the 
universe  and  a  recognition  of  the  significance, 
for  the  ends  of  life,  of  mechanical  necessity. 

The  next  step  in  the  evolution  of  the  scientific 
statement  of  reality  was  taken  by  psychological 
science.  In  addition  to  matter  and  motion,  life 
and  evolution,  we  find  consciousness  and  person- 
ality.   Here,  as  in  the  previous  cases,  the  truth 


EXPERIENCE  61 

lies  in  universalizing  the  laws  of  the  new  science. 
Consciousness,  if  relevant  at  all,  has  a  psycho- 
significance  for  the  whole  system.  It  scfen^ 
must  be  extended  to  the  entire  uni-  ^^^^^ 
verse.  It  is  mechanical,  it  is  organic,  it  '^®^^- 
is  mental.  And,  with  the  advance  of  sociological 
science,  we  shall  have  to  add  that  it  is  in  some 
sense  social.  If  the  work  of  philosophy  is  to  cor- 
relate the  methods  and  results  of  the  special 
sciences,  no  one  of  them  must  be  ignored.  The 
ideas  of  consciousness  and  personality,  of  spirit- 
ual values  and  social  relationship,  as  well  as  the 
ideas  of  matter  and  energy,  of  protoplasm  and 
cell-life,  must  find  recognition  in  our  explanation 
of  reality.  The, objection  based  on  the  doctrine 
of  the  conservation  of  energy,  that  the  mental 
is  not  measurable,  wholly  disappears  when  we 
see  that  modern  science  is  really  treating  mental 
phenomena  under  cover  of  other  names.  The 
spiritualization  of  the  idea  of  matter  which  is 
taking  place  in  the  new  physics  shows  the  re- 
troactive effect  upon  the  basal  concepts  of  both 
physics  and  chemistry  of  the  recent  develop- 
ment of  biological  and  psychological  science. 

The  difficulty  as  to  the  nature  of  the  soul  re- 
solves itself  into  the  question  of  the  re-thinking 
of  matter  in  more  dynamic  terms.    The  only 


62  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

hope  of  clearing  up  the  apparent  incommensur- 
abihty  of  mind  and  matter  is  for  the 

The 

Sciences      so-called  mental  and  material  sciences 

meet  In  the     ,  ,    ,  .  i  i       • 

Concept  of  to  get  together  on  some  common  basis. 
This  will  probably  first  occur  in  the  case 
of  the  two  sciences  of  neurology  and  psycho- 
logy, which  at  present  are  so  intimately  asso- 
ciated in  the  study  of  the  human  individual. 
The  need  has  frequently  been  urged  of  some 
category  common  to  the  physiologist  and  psy- 
chologist, in  terms  of  which  the  problems  of 
neural  structure  and  mental  function  might  be 
discussed  without  arousing  metaphysical  preju- 
dices. Such  a  category  is  found  in  the  concept 
of  action  or  behavior  which  is  coming  into  use 
in  the  fields  of  comparative  physiology  and  com- 
parative psychology.  It  is  too  early  to  predict  in 
detail  the  fines  along  which  this  approximation 
will  take  place,  but  it  is  safe  to  say  that  there 
will  be  considerable  revision  of  working  con- 
cepts on  both  sides.  This  is  already  seen  in  the 
effects  of  the  physicist's  insight  into  the  energic 
nature  of  matter  and  the  biologist's  conception 
of  the  nature  of  organic  processes.  If  biology 
regards  organic  behavior  as  only  a  more  com- 
plicated instance  of  chemical  and  physical  law, 
then  the  study  of  electrical  and  other  dynamic 


EXPERIENCE  63 

properties  of  matter,  whicli  is  affecting  chemical 
and  physical  ideas,  is  bound  finally  to  reach  bi- 
ology with  transforming  effect. 

In  a  similar  way  the  conception  of  the  nature 
of  consciousness  is  undergoing  reconstruction  in 
psychological  science.  The  traditional  Evencoa- 
formula  which  has  been  satisfied  with  mu°st  tT*^ 
some  form  of  dualistic  statement,  pos-  as^Sdeoi 
tulating  a  soul  back  of  consciousness  -^"^^"y- 
as  the  older  physics  postulated  matter  back  of 
motion  and  the  vitalistic  biology  postulated  vital 
force  back  of  organic  processes,  has  already 
been  displaced  by  the  so-called  "  psychology 
without  a  soul.  "  Scientific  psychology  to-day 
views  the  relation  between  consciousness  and  the 
brain  as  a  fact  to  be  explained.  It  no  longer  begs 
the  question  by  a  doctrine  of  parallelism.  There 
is  no  blinking  the  facts  of  brain-structure,  nor 
of  mental  function :  the  problem  is  to  under- 
stand what  we  mean  by  each  in  terms  of  the 
other.  This  it  has  been  impossible  to  do  in  the 
past  because  of  the  diverse  historical  conditions 
under  which  the  two  sciences  evolved.  Biology 
had  its  roots  in  the  natural  and  positive  sciences. 
Psychology  began  as  a  branch  of  metaphysics. 
But  now  that  we  are  coming;  to  resfard  all  science 
as  the  study  of  activity,  and  to  see  that  the  lines 


64  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

between  the  special  investigations  merely  repre- 
sent different  interests  and  a  convenient  divi- 
sion of  labor,  there  is  hope  of  finding  out  what 
reality  is  in  terms  of  consciousness  and  its  laws 
as  well  as  in  terms  of  life  and  energy.  For  the 
so-called  mental  and  social  facts  of  the  universe 
will  finally  be  explained  only  when  they  shall 
be  reduced  to  terms  of  this  common  denominator 
of  all  science  —  action.  While  beginning  with  a 
statement  of  W hat-reality-is,  science  has  at  last 
come  to  the  question,  How-experience-goes-on. 
From  the  naive  primitive  conception  of  reahty 
as  a  content  independent  of  experience,  it  has 
come  to  devote  its  attention  to  experience  as  a 
process,  and  to  recognize  that  Activity  is  the 
very  essence  of  Being. 

§  6.  THE  SOCIAL  NATURE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

The  last  of  the  categories  evolved  by  science 
in  its  attempt  to  understand  reality  is  that  of  the 
Social  social  nature  of  experience.  Nothing 
Science.  -^  jjome  in  upon  one  with  greater 
vividness  and  force  at  critical  moments  of  his 
career  than  the  vital  and  intimate  way  in  which 
the  events  of  his  own  personal  experience  are 
bound  up  with  those  of  his  fellows.  Deeper  than 
the  feeling  of  individual  isolation,  poignant  as 


EXPERIENCE  65 

that  may  be,  is  the  sense  of  social  solidarity 
which  at  such  times  appears  either  as  an  insur- 
mountable barrier  or  as  an  infinite  opportunity 
to  the  realization  of  the  self. 

This  recognition  of  the  social  nature  of  expe- 
rience, like  its  counterpart,  the  clear  conscious- 
ness of  individuality,  is  a  relatively  late  product 
of  human  civilization.  The  two  ideas  properly 
emerge  together.  But  European  ideals  of  culture 
have  been  so  dominated  for  two  centuries  by  an 
isolative  conception  of  the  self,  that  the  truth 
concerning  the  fundamentally  social  nature  of 
consciousness  has  been  overshadowed.  It  is  only 
beginning  to  be  realized  in  all  its  implications, 
that  a  sound  theory  of  democracy,  of  moral  free- 
dom, and  of  immortality,  is  bound  up  with  a 
true  understandino^  of  the  mutual  relations  of 
the  individual  and  society. 

A  study  of  the  characters  of  the  primitive 
attitude  of  mind  gives  us  a  glimpse  of  the  basic 
elements  which  enter  into  the  social  ^he  Primi- 
constitution  of  human  experience.  The  o7mS?s''' 
primitive  mind  is  protoplasmic.  Dis-  (i)Nai^e, 
tinctions  which  in  our  mature  and  articulated 
knowledge  seem  so  clear  and  immutable  are  in 
a  state  of  vague  incoherence  and  unanalyzed 
confusion  which  makes  even  the  knowledsre  and 


66  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

science  of  earlier  ages  seem  fantastic  and  gro- 
tesque. There  is  no  differentiation  of  the  real 
significance  of  things  from  their  face  value. 
Things  are  what  they  seem.  The  attitude  of 
primitive  man  is  naive  and  uncritical,  undis- 
turbed by  the  dualisms  which  so  perplex  our 
more  sophisticated  thought. 

He  is  immersed  in  the  practical  affairs  of  the 
struggle  for  life,  in  the  proximate  problems  of 
(2)  praou-  food  and  sex.  His  conduct  is  deter- 
"*^'  mined    by    custom    and    convention. 

When  he  thinks,  it  is  only  because  he  has  to, 
and  to  solve  the  most  pressing  present  problems. 
Even  his  language-symbols  are  still  unanalyzed, 
a  name  and  its  object  being  so  intimately  iden- 
tified that  insult  to  the  name  of  a  thing  is  re- 
garded as  an  injury  to  the  thing  itself.  Hence 
his  apparent  imaginativeness  —  apparent  only, 
since  what  for  us  are  his  myths  and  the  won- 
derful creations  of  his  fancy,  for  him  are  the 
vaguely  glimpsed  and  crudely  formulated  reali- 
ties of  his  e very-day  life. 

His  life  is  a  rude  unification  of  vast  blocks  of 

concrete  experience,  which  for  us  are  made  up 

of  a  multitude  of  discrete  details.  It  is 

integral,  but  the  principles  of  unity 

and  continuity  which  bind  its  parts  together  are 


EXPERIENCE  67 

vaguely  and  inconsistently  conceived.  Uncon- 
sciously to  himself,  he  is  a  daring  monist  and  a 
helpless  dualist  —  but  never  dreams  what  it 
means  to  be  either.  For  this  reason  his  unfeel- 
ing cruelty  to  living  things  and  his  unthinking 
personification  of  inanimate  objects  cannot  have 
the  significance  for  him  that  they  have  for  us. 
There  is  an  unsophisticated  transparency  of 
purpose  and  at  the  same  time  such  a  depth 
and  reach  of  belief  in  what  to  us  is  an  irra- 
tional occultism,  that  his  experience  seems  an 
utter  chaos ;  while  in  truth  its  apparent  lack  of 
coherency  is  due  chiefly  to  our  failure  to  ap- 
preciate the  simplicity  of  the  elemental  needs 
and  adjustments  which  are  its  sole  principle  of 
organization. 

For,  while  the  germs  of  our  present  elaborate 
differentiation  of  inner  and  outer  life  are  there, 
they  are  there  only  in  implicit  form.  He 
is  the  creature  of  habit  and  tradition  — 
ignorant  of  the  laws  which  he  obeys.  He  is  su- 
perstitious because,  in  his  religion,  he  is,  as  still 
for  the  most  part  we  are,  emotional  and  pre- 
rational.  Magic  is  his  crude  science  and  myth 
his  still  cruder  philosophy.  Code  and  rite  domi- 
nate his  moral  life  because  he  has  not  reflected 
upon  the  social  and  political  motives  which  un- 


68  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

derlie  them.  His  labor  is  narrow  and  servile 
because  he  has  not  brought  to  consciousness 
the  meaninof  of  his  own  activities.  His  mind  is 
bovinely  peaceful  because  he  is  too  unconscious 
of  ideals  to  be  discontent. 

The  conceptions  of  self  and  society,  as  would 
be  expected,  are  likewise  naive,  practical,  total, 
and  implicit  in  character.  Personality 
of  Sell  and  Originally  was  conceived  as  wider  than 
what  we  call  the  individual,  in  Roman 
law  the  "  person"  of  a  free  citizen,  including  his 
slaves  and  domestic  animals.  This  apparently  is 
a  relic  of  the  primitive  state  of  society  in  which 
the  individual  has  not  yet  become  conscious  of 
himself  as  an  individual.  What  we  call  person- 
ality is  the  result  of  social  selection  and  division 
of  labor.  Some  member  of  the  group,  because 
of  unusual  native  sagacity  or  acquired  skill  in 
providing  for  the  needs  of  the  tribe,  becomes 
recognized  by  the  primitive  horde  as  their  nat- 
ural leader.  This  serves  at  once  to  define  in  him 
this  capacity  for  leadership,  and  to  develop  the 
group  consciousness.  While  in  one  sense  the 
instrument  of  social  progress,  personal  initiative 
is  thus  in  another  sense  itself  a  social  product. 

Along  with  the  individuation  of  society  there 
takes   place  a  corresponding   socialization    of 


EXPERIENCE  69 

consciousness  in    the  self.     His  mind  mirrors 
the  spiritual  values  of  his  social  environ- 

.  .  The  Self 

ment,  as  his  brain  maps  the  progressive 
elaboration  of  sensory  and  motor  adjustments 
on  the  periphery  of  his  organism.  It  follows 
that  no  self  is  impervious  to  other  selves. 
Society  is  a  vast  plexus  of  interweaving  person- 
alities. We  are  members  one  of  another,  as  the 
various  parts  of  an  organism  cooperate  in  the 
common  life  process.  The  individual  is  not  an 
impenetrable  atomic  unit,  but  the  social  whole 
coming  to  consciousness  at  a  specific  point. 
Personality  and  consciousness  are  not  so  bound 
up  with  my  individual  organism  that  other 
persons  cannot  share  in  them,  but  are  a  social 
synthesis  which,  indeed,  has  no  existence  apart 
from  individual  persons,  yet  expresses  relation- 
ships which  go  beyond  this.  Consciousness  is 
the  centre  of  social  osmosis,  developed  in  the 
individual  at  the  point  of  attrition  with  other 
individuals,  through  which  the  social  values  find 
their  way  from  self  to  self.  It  is  impossible  for 
a  human  being  to  get  away  from  this  social  as- 
pect of  his  consciousness.  No  man  is  alone  even 
when  he  is  by  himself.  An  ascetic  self  is  in  so 
far  not  a  self. 

If  it  be  objected  to  the  above  argument  that 


70  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

it  posits  a  social  consciousness  over  and  above 
the  individual  consciousness,  the  reply 
is  ready:  This  is  chiefly  a  matter  of 
the  meaning  of  words.  The  same  objection  has 
been  made  to  the  conception  of  a  social  organ- 
ism, on  the  ground  that  society  is  simply  the 
aggregate  of  individual  organisms.  But  when 
the  criteria  of  the  organic  are  applied  —  its  self- 
maintaining,  self -perpetuating  character,  and  the 
reciprocal  relation  of  its  part-processes  —  it  will 
be  found  that  society  is,  if  anything,  a  truer 
example  of  an  organism  than  the  body  of  the 
so-called  individual  animal  or  plant.  Society  is 
not  an  organism  in  the  sense  of  having  legs  and 
arms,  lungs,  stomach,  and  a  nervous  system.  But 
neither  is  an  amoeba.  What  we  call  an  individ- 
ual organism  must  be  interpreted  in  terms  of 
society  as  well  as  society  in  terms  of  what  we 
call  the  individual. 

The  mere  fact  that  in  the  case  of  human  be- 
ings the  so-called  individuals  are  separated  by  a 
The  Social  certain  distance  in  space  instead  of  con- 
organism.  stitutiug  a  colouy  or  compound  individ- 
ual, as  in  the  case  of  the  sponge,  does  not  ren- 
der it  any  less  true  that  they  form  an  organic 
whole.  "  The  cell,  the  individual,  the  race,  are 
merely  units  of  different  order  in  the  world  of 


EXPERIENCE  71 

living  substance,"  says  Professor  Davenport. 
Individuals  in  human  society,  most  of  the  time, 
are  parted  physically  by  inches,  feet,  miles,  or  a 
hemisphere,  while  the  individuals  of  a  sponge 
are  separated  by  only  a  cell-wall.  What  is  the 
fact  of  a  micromillim^er  or  a  mile  ?  If  we  could 
look  at  the  human  body  with  a  microscope  of 
sufficient  magnifying  power,  it  would  be  seen 
that  its  molecules  are  relatively  as  far  apart  as 
the  different  individuals  who  make  up  society. 
By  a  similar  line  of  argument  it  may  be  shown 
that  social  consciousness  is  a  reality.  The 
trouble  is  not  so  much  with  the  socio- 
logical,  as  with  the  psychological  cate-  conscious- 
gories.  The  individual  mind  is  no 
more  an  entity  which  you  can  locate  in  some 
particular  place  or  regard  as  a  distinct  occult 
force  than  is  the  social  mind.  Both  are  state- 
ments merely  of  observed  uniformities  in  facts. 
The  individual  mind  is  the  org-anization  of  the 
actions  and  feelings  and  thoughts  which  are 
focused  in  a  given  organic  system.  The  social 
mind  or  consciousness  is  this  same  fact  viewed 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  system  within 
which  this  process  of  organization  is  taking 
place.  As  the  social  organism  is  an  organic 
whole  through  the  reproductive  nexus  in  time 


72  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

and  space,  so  the  social  mind  is  an  organic 
whole  through  the  cooperative  participation  of 
selves  in  a  continuous  experience  —  for  however 
discrete  our  individual  centres  of  consciousness 
may  be,  our  commonness  is  equally,  if  not  more, 
fundamental. 

There  is  no  mysterious  uniqueness  about 
consciousness.  A  great  deal  of  nonsense  has 
Tjig  been  written  about  its  unshareability. 

uniqueness  j^  -^  ^^^^^  remarked,  as  if  it  were  a 
sciousness.  profound  insight,  that  one  can  never 
really  get  into  another  person's  consciousness. 
But  this  is  not  as  extraordinary  as  it  has 
been  represented  to  be.  If  an  adjustment  is 
being  made  and  I  happen  to  be  in  the  focus  of 
that  adjustment,  and  myself,  as  a  part  of  the 
whole,  cooperating  in  constituting  it,  then,  of 
course,  the  rest  of  the  universe  (including  other 
members  of  society)  will  be  out  of  that  focus  in 
the  margin  somewhere.  Two  persons  could  not 
very  well  be  at  the  same  focal  point  without 
coalescing  into  one.  And  if  consciousness  is 
simply  the  process  of  the  universe  when  and 
where  it  is  undergoing  tensional  transformation, 
then  it  is  no  marvel  that  no  other  individual  feels 
this  tension  just  as  I  do.  I  a7n  this  centre  of 
transformation,  this  focus  of  adjustment,  while 


EXPERIENCE  73 

yet  it  is  the  focusing  of  the  entire  system.  Any 
given  system  has  but  one  point  of  highest  ten- 
sion (in  consciousness),  and  to  say  that  this  is 
not  shared  is  only  saying  that  a  thing  is  itself 
and  not  everything  else  at  the  same  time.  There 
is  a  sense,  to  be  sure,  in  which  everything  is 
identical  with  everything  else ;  but  if  there  were 
absolute  identity  there  would  be  just  one  Thing 
in  the  universe:  there  would  be  no  "things." 

Karl  Pearson  has  suggested  that  if  the  brains 
of  two  persons  could  be  connected  by  means  of 
a  commissure  of  nervous  tissue,  their 
experience  would  be  welded  into  one.  organic 
But  such  an  hypothetical  connection  is 
not  necessary:  the  experiences  of  different  in- 
dividuals are  fused  in  all  sorts  of  ways  as  it  is. 
Since  the  dawn  of  civilization,  man  has  evolved 
chiefly  in  terms  of  extra-organic  changes.  In- 
stead of  a  further  development  of  the  organism, 
there  has  been  an  evolution  of  the  environment, 
largely  by  man's  own  conscious  selection.  The 
variations  and  rapid  advances  in  his  progress 
have  been  made  possible  by  the  mechanical  ex- 
tensions of  his  sensory  and  motor  organs  repre- 
sented in  the  complex  machinery  and  appliances 
of  industry  and  science.  The  psychological  cen- 
tre of  gravity  has  shifted  from  the  organized 


74  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

mass  of  protoplasm  he  calls  his  body,  and  falls 
outside  somewhere  in  that  larger  extension  of 
his  personality  represented  by  his  inventions, 
his  institutional  life,  his  social  status,  his  repu- 
tation, and  all  the  culture-symbols  in  terms  of 
which  he  now  lives. 

The  civilized  man's  conscfousness  is  not  con- 
fined to  his  cranium.  Indeed  it  is  doubtful  if  it  is 
at  all  relevant  to  speak  of  "  the  seat"  of  the  soul. 
The  human  individual  is  the  social  whole  under- 
going readjustment  at  its  points  of  transition  and 
reorganization.  The  study  of  consciousness  is 
not  concerned  with  a  mysterious  occult  entity 
residing  somewhere  inside  one's  skin  or  in  one's 
head.  Consciousness  is  not  something  bound  up 
exclusively  with  the  sensorium  of  the  individual. 
Consciousness  is,  what  the  word  suggests,  the 
knowing-together  of  estranged  aspects  of  the 
social  whole.  It  would  be  just  as  significant  to 
say,  "It  thinks,"  or  "  Thinking  is  going  on,"  as 
to  say,  "I  think."  One  often  indeed  feels  just 
this  to  be  true — that  his  thinking  is  determined 
for  him  by  the  influence  of  other  personalities 
rather  than  by  his  own  choice. 

This  problem  of  the  supposed  uniqueness  of 
consciousness  is  no  different  from  that  of  every 
leaf  and  blade  of  grass,  of  every  atom  and  star. 


EXPERIENCE  75 

The  individual  represents  a  node  or  nisus  of 
enero^ies  in  a  dynamic  system.  It  is  an 

.  .  .  The  Social 

historical  accident,  one  might  say,  that  Natme  at 

-,•     1  '  the  Sell. 

my  consciousness  is  so  peculiarly  mine. 
It  may  be  a  sign  of  my  limitation.  Instead  of 
being  a  mark  of  my  superiority  and  individuality, 
it  may  be  a  mark  of  my  unsociality  and  isolation. 
Extreme  individuaHty  becomes  insanity.  The 
ideal  type  of  consciousness  toward  which  the 
race  is  moving  is  one  in  which  the  individual 
becomes  a  more  and  more  organic  expression 
of  the  social  whole.  True  individuality  is  not 
uniqueness,  unHkeness,  isolation,  the  possession 
of  unshareable  consciousness,  but  the  ability  to 
bring  to  a  focus  the  widest  range  of  social  forces. 
Individuals  are  pivots  upon  which  experience 
turns,  foci  into  which  consciousness  converges 
and  whence  it  irradiates,  media  by  which  expe- 
rience is  handed  on  from  one  member  of  society 
to  another.  And  psychology,  from  this  point  of 
view,  is  the  "attempt  to  state  in  detail  the 
machinery  of  the  individual  considered  as  the 
instrument  and  organ  through  which  social  ac- 
tion operates."  (Dewey.) 


76  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

§    7.   THE  UNITY   OF   THE   SELF 

It  follows  that  the  individual  has  only  a  func- 
tional identity.  The  water  of  Niagara  is  con- 
individuai-  stantly  changing,  but  the  form  of  the 
^^'  cataract   remains.    The  material    sub- 

stance of  my  body  changes,  but  the  continuity 
of  my  selfhood  is  recognizable  throughout  the 
changes. 

On  the  open  plains  in  the  Western  desert  a  slen- 
der column  of  dust  rising  perhaps  one  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  in  the  apparently  still  air  may  be  seen  slowly 
moving  at  a  rate  at  which  a  man  might  walk,  some- 
times pursuing  a  uniform  path,  at  others  suddenly 
turning.  Sometimes  the  spectre  hastens,  as  though 
urged  on  by  a  sudden  impulse.  Again  it  loiters,  as 
though  unable  to  make  up  its  mind.  The  appearance 
may  endure  for  hours  and  may  be  traced  for  scores 
of  miles  over  the  trackless  plain.  The  sand  in  it  is 
continually  changing,  as  is  the  component  air.  The 
vortex  is  the  result  of  the  union  of  equilibrated  forces 
and  is  just  as  much  a  real  object  as  is  a  tree  or  a  man. 
It  is  an  individual,  but  its  unity  obviously  consists 
in  the  perpetuation  of  a  definite  form  of  coordinate 
activity. 

This  beautiful  figure  from  Professor  Herrick 
furnishes  a  perfect  illustration  of  the  functional 
identity  of  the  self.  Consciousness,  a  conscious- 


EXPERIENCE  77 

ness,  my  consciousness,  like  the  vortex  of  dust, 
has  only  a  functional  unity  and  continuity.  Its 
individual  Being  consists  of  what  it  persists  in 
doing. 

This  conception  of  the  nature  of  individual- 
ity may  be  illustrated  by  its  bearing  on  two  of 
the  most  momentous  problems  which  have  agi- 
tated the  human  mind  —  the  problems  of  free- 
dom and  immortality. 

If  I  am  a  part  of  the  whole,  if  I  am  a  focus  of 
the  world-energies,  then  I  am  as  genuinely  real 
as  any  other  part  of  the  system.  In  be- 
ing myself  I  participate  in  the  reality  Prowemoi 
of  the  whole.  And  if  the  system  is  au- 
tonomous, then  as  a  functional  member  of  the 
system  I  share  in  its  spontaneity  and  freedom.  I 
am  not  the  whole  system,  I  am  a  functional  part 
only:  my  activities,  therefore,  are  determined 
by  the  laws  of  the  activity  of  the  whole.  But  in 
so  far  as  I  am  a  functioninor  orgfan  in  theuniver- 
sal  organism,  the  system  is  what  it  is  because  of 
what  I  am,  and  to  this  extent  I  am  free.  I  am 
not  free /rom  or  in  spite  of  the  system  in  which 
I  function.  My  freedom  is  realized  in  my  func- 
tional relationship  to  the  system  through  the 
laws  which  bind  me  and  it  into  a  dynamic 
whole.    This  is  the  meaning:  of  Hejjel's  famous 


78  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

saying   that   freedom   is   the   inner    truth    of 
necessity. 

And  what  is  true  of  the  relation  of  the  indi- 
vidual to  the  cosmos  is  true  of  his  relation  to 
society  where  the  problem  of  freedom 

rreedom  i  •      i 

means  bccomes  a  concrete  and  practical  one. 
The  moment  we  come  to  speak  of  free- 
dom specifically,  we  have  to  deal  with  conditions. 
Liberty  does  not  mean  that  activity  is  independ- 
ent of  conditions.  It  means  that  the  conditions 
are  under  control.  Abstract  freedom  does  not 
exist.  Freedom  is  intelligible  only  as  signify- 
ing opportunity  to  act.  The  only  machinery 
by  which  an  individual  can  control  the  condi- 
tions of  his  action  in  a  complex  society  in  which 
he  is  dependent  at  every  turn  upon  his  fellows, 
is  by  the  organization  of  those  conditions.  But 
organization  is  not  incompatible  with  freedom. 
It  is  the  very  instrument  by  which  freedom  is 
achieved.  The  organization  of  labor,  for  exam- 
ple, is  the  indispensable  prerequisite  to  the  con- 
trol of  the  conditions  upon  which  the  freedom  of 
labor  depends.  Freedom  means  control.  Liberty 
means  law.  It  means  that  the  activity  of  the 
individual  must  be  regulated  with  reference  to 
the  rest  of  society. 

But  control  and  law  imply  intelligence.  The 


EXPERIENCE  79 

ignorant  man  is  not  free.    The  emancipation 
proclamation  did  not  liberate  the  negfro.  „ 

IT  _  o  Control  Im- 

The  savage  roamingr-  the  forest  is  not  pi^es  intei- 

.  .        llgence 

free.  He  alone  is  truly  free  who  has  in- 
telligent mastery  of  the  forces  about  him  where- 
by his  purposes  may  be  realized.  The  problem 
of  freedom  is  not  simply  the  problem  of  the  re- 
lation of  one  act  to  another  act,  or  of  the  rela- 
tion of  the  act  of  one  man  to  the  act  of  another 
man.  It  is  the  problem  of  the  relation  of  intel- 
ligence to  action.  A  man  is  free  when  he  knows 
how  to  act  efficiently  in  a  given  situation.  He 
is  free  when  he  has  control  of  action  in  and 
through  a  true  method  of  action.  He  only  is  free 
in  a  given  situation  who,  by  his  intelligent  grasp 
of  its  true  significance,  can  adjust  himself  in  the 
specific  conditions. 

Freedom  does  not  consist  of  a  certain  num- 
ber of  original  and  inalienable  rights.  The 
possession   of  these   so-called    natural 

.  .  And  Organ- 

njjhts  does  not  constitute  freedom  un-  izationoi 

T  1  •    1  •       1      mi  the  Condi- 

less  the  rights  are  exercised.  The  only  tionsof 

real  freedom  possible  to  the  individual 
member  of  the  social   organism  is  the  oppor- 
tunity to  bring  into  play  the  capacities  which 
are  latent  in  him  for  expressing  and  organizing 
the  activities  of  that  very  social  organism  of 


80  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

which  he  is  a  functional  part.  His  liberty  does 
not  consist  in  shaking  himself  free  from  the 
organic  bonds  which  unite  him  to  society,  but 
in  functioning  as  a  part  of  the  whole  in  such  a 
way  that  his  acts  cooperate  with  the  acts  of 
every  other  similar  part  for  the  life  and  pro- 
gressive growth  of  the  entire  system.  It  is  not 
the  individualistic  self  but  the  self-in-society 
who  is  free.  Sovereign  and  subject  are  not 
separate  persons  in  a  true  democracy,  but  each 
is  at  once  governor  and  governed.  The  indi- 
vidual gives  laws  to  himself  because  he  is  more 
than  a  mere  individual.  He  is  subject  to  laws 
he  cooperates  in  making. 

To  revert  to  the  illustration  of  labor  organi- 
zation :  The  socialization  of  industry  is  the  only 
way  to  secure  complete  economic  free- 
of  Industrial  dom  for  the  individual  worker.    The 

Liberty,  ii*  •!••  i  t 

laboring  man  is  beginning  to  realize 
this.  He  is  coming  to  see  that,  if  the  individual 
has  the  right  to  work,  society  is  bound  to  pro- 
vide the  conditions  which  shall  make  it  possi- 
ble for  him  to  exercise  that  right.  Otherwise 
it  is  not  a  right.  Liberty  to  work,  in  the  abstract, 
with  no  concrete  opportunity  for  carrying  it 
out,  is  not  a  right :  it  is  a  delusion.  Rights 
(freedom)  and  laws  (organization)  are  correla- 


EXPERIENCE  81 

tive.  The  organization  of  labor  is  the  attempt 
to  control  the  conditions  which  will  make  this 
abstract  right  a  concrete  fact. 

Personal  liberty  can  never  in  the  future 
mean  just  what  it  was  conceived  to  mean  be- 
fore the  organization  of  industry.  Insistence 
on  the  doctrine  of  individual  rights,  as  that  is 
commonly  understood,  is  a  kind  of  reversionary 
atavism.  It  has  abeady  become  the  basis  for 
monopolistic  abuse  on  the  part  of  capital.  It  is 
becoming  the  basis  of  similar  abuse  on  the  part 
of  organized. labor.  The  only  escape  is  a  more 
organic  conception  of  what  is  meant  by  indi- 
vidual rights  and  by  personal  liberty.  This  can 
be  attained  only  by  grasping  the  new  concep- 
tion of  the  functional  nature  of  individuality. 
Industrial  organization  imperils  liberty,  if  by 
liberty  we  mean  the  abstract  individualistic  con- 
ception of  a  past  century.  But  in  the  larger 
view  of  the  individual  this  is  the  very  instru- 
ment whereby  a  truer  conception  of  liberty  is 
to  be  worked  out.  We  may  even  go  so  far  as  to 
say  that  the  individual  must  lose  his  liberty  — 
the  liberty  for  which  the  enthusiasts  of  the 
eighteenth  century  bled  and  died  —  if  he  is  to 
be  truly  free,  if  he  is  to  gain  freedom  as  a  so- 
cial individual.  In  the  new  industrial  democracy 


82  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

which  is  upon  us  no  man  can  be  his  own  mas- 
ter in  the  sense  of  the  older  individuahsm.  His 
liberty  is  realized  through  the  very  widening  of 
selfhood  which  results  from  cooperation  with 
his  fellow-men. 

The  conception  of  immortality  also  turns  on 

the  nature  of  individuality.   We  have  seen  that 

it  is  the  very  essence  of  selfhood  to  be 

lem  of  im-    passed  ou  to  others  :  it  is  social.  There- 

mortality.       •       ■,.         •,       •  i.   Tj.  j       •      i 

m  lies  its  immortality,  paradoxical  as 
the  statement  may  seem.  Apparently  this  de- 
nies personal  and  conscious  survival  of  death. 
But  such  is  not  the  case.  It  is  indeed  the  only 
basis  on  which  a  satisfactory  doctrine  of  im- 
mortality can  rest.  In  spite  of  theological  argu- 
ments from  miracles  and  revelation  and  from 
the  nature  of  God,  intuitional  arguments  from 
innate  ideas,  ethical  arguments  from  the  nature 
and  needs  of  man,  idealistic  arguments  from 
the  alleged  priority  and  superiority  of  spirit, 
psychophysical  arguments  based  on  the  appar- 
ent control  «of  mind  over  matter,  evolutionary 
arguments  from  the  demand  to  its  satisfaction, 
and  arguments  of  the  physical  scientist  based 
on  the  indestructibility  of  matter  and  the  con- 
servation of  energy  —  in  spite  of  all  these  argu- 
ments and  others  that  might  be  enumerated, 


EXPERIENCE  83 

most  persons  find  their  faith  in  a  future  life 
scarcely  more  than  a  wish.  And  why  ?  Because 
the  self  for  whose  immortality  they  hope  is  an 
unreal  abstraction.  The  trouble  is  not  that  they 
believe  in  immortality,  but  that  they  ascribe 
it  to  an  impossible  self.  The  difficulty  lies  in 
the  conception  of  personality.  The  self  is  con- 
ceived as  a  particularistic  entity,  with  barriers 
to  other  selves.  While,  in  society,  individuals 
are  recognized  to  be  functions  of  each  other,  at 
death  they  are  supposed  to  shrivel  into  isolated 
and  alien  units.  With  such  a  conception  it  is 
impossible  to  state  a  rational  doctrine  of  the 
life  after  death. 

The  problem  is  intimately  connected  with 
three  primal  facts  of  social  life  —  sex,  birth, 
and  death.  Death  is  the  precondition  gg^  31^11, 
of  life,  and,  like  birth,  is  a  process,  not  and  Death. 
an  event.  The  problems  of  degeneration  and 
regeneration,  of  destruction  and  reproduction, 
are  solved  in  the  same  breath.  It  is  only  the 
creature  that  is  born  that  can  die.  But  what 
is  birth?  Answer  this  question  and  you  have 
answered  the  other.  Birth  and  death  enter  the 
world  with  sex.  Moners  are  immortal,  says 
Weissmann.  They  do  not  die  because  they  are 
not  born,  and  they  are  not  born  because  there 


84  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

is  no  such  thing  as  sex,  or  rather  they  are  bi-sex- 
ual,  which  amounts  to  the  same  thing  for  the 
present  argument.  Death  evolved,  the  biologists 
tell  us,  as  the  price  paid  for  the  higher  organi- 
zation brought  about  by  sexual  differentiation. 
But  let  us  not  be  misled  by  mere  words. 
What  are  meant  by  birth,  life,  death?  Life 
does  not   besfin  with   a  minimum    of 

Birth  Is  a  ....       *  .  ,      , 

Lifelong      Vitality,  Tise  to  a  maximum  and  then 

Process.  it  •  •  t  -i  7 

decline  again,  as  is  ordinarily  supposed. 
The  acme  or  climax  is  at  the  start,  and  life  itself 
is  a  process  of  dying,  a  gradual  loss  of  vitality. 
Death  is  going  on  during  what  is  popularly 
called  the  life  of  the  individual,  the  moment 
called  death  being  but  the  culmination  of  a 
process  which  has  in  reality  covered  the  whole 
period  of  life.  Hence  it  is  literally  true  that  in 
the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death.  "  The  organ- 
ism dies  because  it  grows." 

But  if  biological  science  compels  us  thus  to 
interpret  life  in  terms  of  death,  it  equally  opens 
Death  too,  ^P  ^^^®  possibility  of  interpreting  what 
ifotli°"'*'  ^'6  call  death  in  terms  of  life.  Man  is 
Event.  ^g  immortal  as  the  moner.  Before  the 
life  of  the  child  commenced  it  was  part  of  its 
parents,  and  its  existence  now  is  nothing  biologi- 
cally but  an  outgrowth  and  a  continuation  of 


EXPERIENCE  85 

their  lives.  What  difference  whether  it  be  the 
entire  organism  that  is  perpetuated  by  self-divi- 
sion, as  in  the  case  of  the  moner,  or  certain  se- 
lected life-bearing  cells,  as  in  man  ?  An  organism 
is  nothing^  but  a  centre  or  focus  throug-h  which 
the  world-energy  operates.  The  body  of  a  man 
as  well  as  of  a  moner  undergoes  complete  change 
of  its  constituent  elements  repeatedly  during  its 
lifetime.  What  matter,  then,  that  the  somatic 
portion  is  lost  in  what  we  call  death,  if  the 
function  goes  on  in  terms  of  more  subtle  forms 
of  energic  activity  ? 

The  only  future  that  is  possible  in  any  case 
is  an  immortality  of  function.    The  individual 
is  merely  an  aggregate  of  reactions  to 
stimulus,  the  relatively  persistent  real-  only  is 

...  p  1    '       1  f         1**1         Immortal. 

ization  01  a  certain  type  oi  activity. 
What  is  this  "  persistent  realization  "  ?  Not  a 
persistence  of  the  elements  of  the  tissues  or  cells, 
but  the  persistence  of  a  function,  of  a  form  or 
mode  of  behavior.  A  boy  loses  the  blade  of  his 
jack-knife  and  puts  in  a  new  one.  He  then  loses 
the  handle  and  gets  anew  handle.  Still  he  speaks 
of  it  as  the  same  knife.  He  grows  up  to  be  a 
man,  yet  in  a  sense  he  is  the  same  person  he 
was  when  a  boy.  The  self  is  the  identity  of 
function,    and  it    is   this  which    is    immortal. 


86  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

What  difference  does  it  make  whether  in  what 
we  call  life  I  lose  a  single  superficial  cell  of 
the  epidermis  rubbed  off  by  attrition  with  th( 
environment,  or  in  the  lifelong  period  of  growth 
which,  as  we  have  seen,  is  at  the  same  time  the 
descent  to  death,  I  lose  all  these  somatic  cells, 
if  meanwhile  I  have  perpetuated  this  form  of 
life  into  other  modes  of  being  ? 

The  problem  resolves,  then,  into  the  question 

of  evidence  for  the  perpetuation  of  our  present 

types  of  selfhood  into  other  forms  of 

There  Is  .    . 

Reason  to     activitv   which   survive   the   so-called 

believe  that  i        n     i 

seijhood  as  death  of  the  body.    In  the  first  place, 

a  Funo-  .     .  *^  ... 

tionai  Wen-  it  is  not  proveu  that  the  redistribution 

tlty 

of  energy  which  takes  place  during  the 
lifelong  dying  of  an  organism  is  necessarily 
degradation  to  a  lower  plane.  There  is  every 
reason  to  believe  that  it  is  transformation  to  a 
higher  level.  The  assumption  of  the  older  sci- 
ence, that  the  most  complex  organizations  are 
the  most  unstable  and  therefore  transient,  is 
probably  just  the  reverse  of  the  truth.  The 
more  complex  an  organization,  the  wider  the 
range  of  its  relations,  and  therefore  the  less  de- 
pendent is  it  upon  any  single  relation  for  its 
continued  existence.  The  strongest  argument 
for  future  existence  is  present  existence. 


EXPERIENCE  87 

If,  as  the  intra-atomic  physics  has  shown  us, 
there  are  more  subtle  modes  of  energy  pervading 
nature  than  those  that  have  been  mea-  survives 
sured  by  the  relatively  crude  methods  ^JfeV  sod- 
of  science, —  modes  of  energy  whose  ^y°^^- 
forces  drift  unhindered  through  the  opaque 
objects  of  our  visible  world  on  their  errands  of 
cosmic  redistribution  and  integration, — is  it  not 
probable  that  to  these  imponderable  energies  are 
to  be  attributed  the  heretofore  incommensurable 
activities  of  life  and  mind?  If  this  is  so,  the 
apparently  insuperable  obstacle  which  science 
hitherto  has  opposed  to  a  belief  in  immortality 
is  removed  —  the  seeming  destruction  at  death 
of  that  form  or  mode  of  organic  function  which 
we  have  regarded  as  constituting  the  personal- 
ity of  the  individual.  If,  as  we  have  seen,  life 
and  death  are  processes  and  not  terminal  events, 
if  physical  death,  like  mental  birth,  covers  the 
entire  period  of  what  is  commonly  called  life, 
is  it  not  rational  to  rejjard  this  lifelong  drama 
of  destruction  as  really  but  the  obverse  side  of 
a  constructive  synthesis  of  personality,  whose 
pattern  may  be  made  out  only  in  that  world  of 
intangible  and  invisible  forces  which  science  is 
just  beginning  to  glimpse  in  the  flouroscope? 

Reverting  to  Professor  Herrick's  illustration, 


88   .        PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

suppose  the  vortex  were  to  rise  into  the  air.  It 

vanishes  from  sight.  It  still  retains  its 

of  the  vor-    individuality  as  a  vortex,  even  tuougn 

tez  of  Dust.  .  J ,  1  •  1  •  ,  •   1 

we  no  longer  see  the  whirling  particles 
of  dust.  Similarly  in  the  case  of  the  organism. 
Because  in  death  the  equilibrium  of  forces  which 
gave  individuality  to  the  bones  and  muscles  and 
nerves  has  vanished  into  the  more  rarefied  at- 
mosphere of  nature's  invisible  and  intangible 
forces,  leaving  behind  its  fugitive  freight  of  de- 
caying protoplasm,  is  no  reason  for  supposing 
that  the  form  of  acti\dty  is  not  still  building  for 
itself  such  an  individuality  as  its  intrinsic  nature 
and  the  environing  medium  may  determine. 


/ 


CHAPTER  m 

CONSCIOUSNESS 

Experience  we  have  seen  is  fundamentally  so- 
cial in  character,  undergoing  transformation,  as 
occasion  requires,  in  finite  centres  of 

~-T-r  Experience 

individual  consciousness.  We  turn  now  andcon- 

SCl011SI163S 

to  a  consideration  of  the  laws  by  which 
this  transformation  takes  place.  In  a  general 
way  we  have  seen  how  experience  is  regarded 
from  the  functional  standpoint.  It  is  viewed 
primarily  as  a  process.  This  is  simply  carrying 
over  into  psychology  the  dynamic  principle  com- 
mon to  all  sciences  at  the  present  time.  By  pro- 
cess is  meant  activity,  without  specifying  whether 
it  is  physical  or  psychical.  The  most  fundamental 
statement  that  we  can  make  about  experience  or 
reality  is  that  it  is  action.  The  psychophysical 
organism  is  the  complex  transforming  mechan- 
ism by  which  this  activity  is  converted  from  one 
mode  into  another,  to  meet  the  needs  of  the 
complicated  social  life  of  the  individual. 

§  8.    THE   PSYCHOPHYSICAL   ORGANISM 

It  is  clear  that,  among  other  things,  I  am  what 
is  called  a  living  being,  an  organism.  What  is 


90  PRINCIPLES  OF   PRAGMATISM 

meant  by  this  statement?  Kant  defines  an  organ- 
ism as  any  whole  whose  parts  are  related 

Organism  _  *'  ■•■ 

andEnvi-     reciprocallv  as  means  and  ends.  If  this 

ronment         .  . 

is  a  true  conception,  then  the  distinc- 
tion which  is  ordinarily  made  between  organism 
and  environment,  however  useful  for  certain 
practical  purposes,  is  arbitrary  and  inaccurate 
from  a  scientific  point  of  view.  We  often  speak 
as  if  there  were  first  an  organism  and  an  envi- 
ronment, and  then  some  adjustment  of  the  one 
to  the  other.  But  of  course  this  is  not  the  case. 
This  distinction  is  set  up  within  the  vital  activ- 
ity when  for  some  reason  the  adjustment  fails 
to  be  smoothly  realized.  As  long  as  there  is 
relative  adaptation,  organism  and  environment 
form  a  continuous  series.  It  is  only  for  purposes 
of  convenience  that  the  cow  is  distinofuished 
from  the  pasture.  From  the  point  of  view  of  pre- 
cise science  they  represent  an  unbroken  series 
of  chemical  and  physical  transformations  of 
energy.  The  time  was  when  the  lichen  was  not 
distinguished  from  the  bark  of  the  tree  on  which 
it  was  found  :  now  the  lichen  is  called  a  plant- 
organism,  and  the  bark,  in  relation  to  it,  a  part 
of  its  environment.  Do  the  air  one  breathes  and 
the  food  one  eats  belonof  to  the  orofanism  or  to 
the  environment?  AVhere  does  the  stimulus 
cease  and  the  response  begin  ? 


CONSCIOUSNESS  91 

If,  as  is  assumed  by  current  science,  that  por- 
tion of  the  outside  universe  is  mechanical  which 
in  relation  to  the  organism  is  called  en-  The  Living 
vironment,  it  follows  that  the  organism 
which  is  continuous  with  it  is  likewise  mechan- 
ical. This  is  the  argument  of  the  mechanistic 
biologist.  The  organism  is  a  machine  because 
the  material  and  energies  which  enter  into  its 
constitution  form  a  continuum  with  the  forces 
of  the  rest  of  the  universe.  It  is  true  they  form 
a  synthesis  in  the  organism  which  in  degree  of 
complexity  and  adjustability  is  different  from 
that  found  in  the  so-called  unorganized  part  of 
nature.  This  is  expressed  by  saying  that  the 
organism  has  life  and  consciousness.  But  these 
are  not  additional  forces.  They  are  simply 
names  for  the  operation  of  natural  forces  under 
certain  conditions.  The  body  is  a  hving  ma- 
chine, a  mechanism  for  doing  mental  work.  None 
the  less  it  is  a  machine  :  an  unusually  compli- 
cated and  finely  adjusted  machine  for  thinking 
thoughts  and  evolving  ideals  as  well  as  for 
building  cities  and  fashioning  implements  of 
industry  and  war. 

The  essential  idea  embodied  in  the  concep- 
tion of  an  organism  is  a  certain  kind  of  be- 
havior or  system  of  activities.    Wherever  we 


92  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

observe  this  kind  of  activity,  we  call  it  organic. 
The  common  way  of  stating  this  is  to 
say  that  vital  processes  are  circular  or 
spiral,  while  purely  inorganic  processes  are  recti- 
linear or  longitudinal;  that  organic  processes 
are  self-reinstating,  while  inorganic  are  irre- 
versibly serial.  Contrast  a  pebble  with  a  bean. 
The  pebble  in  the  bed  of  the  stream  is  being 
rounded  by  the  continual  wearing  away  of  its 
surface.  The  bean,  under  two  inches  of  soil,  is 
undergoing  a  series  of  remarkable  transforma- 
tions which  eventuate  in  the  production  of  more 
beans.  This  kind  of  change  is  called  life  or 
growth. 

But  a  still  more  profound  difference  is  said 
to  exist  between  the  inorganic  and  the  organic 
Conscious-  ^'^^l^s.  An  organism,  unlike  a  stone, 
^^^-  is  capable  of  consciousness.   At  least 

this  is  true  of  the  higher  types  of  organism  pos- 
sessing a  nervous  system.  But  we  must  beware 
of  the  common  fallacy  of  connecting  conscious- 
ness exclusively  with  its  central  switch-board 
apparatus.  Consciousness  is  no  more  confined 
to  the  nervous  system  than  electrical  phenomena 
are  confined  to  the  commutators  by  which  the 
current  is  deflected.  Consciousness  is  related  to 
the  activities  of  the  entire  orfjanism.  More  than 


CONSCIOUSNESS  93 

that :  it  is  connected  indirectly  with  the  move- 
ments of  the  remotest  atom  in  space.  What  we 
call  the  single  organism  is  merely  a  centre  of 
interchancfe  throuo'h  which  the  universal  ener- 
gies  surge  to  and  fro.  The  laws  that  hold  the 
stars  in  their  places  are  the  laws  that  enable  me 
to  stand  upon  my  feet.  At  each  step,  on  the 
one  hand,  I  resist  a  world  with  the  pressure  of 
the  foot,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  spring 
in  my  step  is  just  the  great  universe  giving  me 
a  push.  If  one  could  stand  on  a  distant  planet 
and  watch  our  globe  revolve,  he  would  see  a 
rhythm  of  life  awakening  to  consciousness  as 
the  light  of  dawn  swept  around  the  sphere  we 
call  our  earth.  As  the  attraction  of  the  moon 
causes  a  tidal  wave  to  follow  it  in  the  plastic 
materials  of  the  earth's  crust,  so  the  rays  of  the 
sun's  light  and  heat  quicken  the  sleeping  rim 
of  life  which  envelops  our  lithosphere,  and  an 
advancing  wave  of  consciousness  follows  in  its 
wake. 

In  the  explanation  of  mind,  as  of  life,  we  are 
obliged  to  go  beyond  the  nervous  system,  and 
beyond  the  organism,  in  order  to  relate 
these  to  the  cosmic  energies  which  are  Nervous 
the  source  of  all.  The  nervous  system 
is  simply  a  mechanism  for  converting  one  kind 


94  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

of  energy  into  another.  Professor  Loeb  has 
shown  that  it  is  not  essential  to  sensorimotor 
response,  its  function  being  chiefly  one  of  accel- 
eration. Excision  of  the  single  ganglion  which 
constitutes  the  nervous  system  of  an  Ascidian 
does  not  prevent  the  customary  reactions  of  this 
animal :  it  simply  interferes  with  the  rapidity 
of  the  coordinations.  The  nervous  structures 
are  merely  protoplasmic  bridges  which  serve 
as  special  conduction  pathways  between  the 
sensory  and  motor  organs,  for  the  more  expe- 
ditious and  therefore  more  efficient  coordina- 
tion of  the  various  parts  of  the  organism  in  the 
process  of  adaptation  to  the  environment.  The 
brain  is  only  an  exceedingly  complex  and  closely 
compacted  organization  of  such  conduction 
pathways.  The  real  units  of  neural  activity  are 
functional  systems  of  nerve-cells.  When  we 
speak  of  "  brain-centres  "  we  mean  certain  areas 
in  which  these  elements  are  more  closely 
crowded  together,  with  more  elaborate  connec- 
tions, than  in  other  regions.  The  nervous  sys- 
tem sustains  somewhat  the  same  relation  to  the 
rest  of  the  body  that  the  central  switch-board 
bears  to  a  system  of  electric  lights  and  motors. 
How  these  nerve-elements  came  to  have  this 
intermediarv  function  is  found  in  the  fact  that 


CONSCIOUSNESS  95 

the  nervous  system  arose  from  certain  ectoderm 
cells  which  originally  occupied  a  posi- 
tion on  the  periphery  of  the  org^anism,  Equating 

,.  :  *^  .  .      ,  Apparatus. 

thus  standing  between  its  vital  pro- 
cesses and  the  external  world.  The  outside  of  the 
organism  had  to  be  sensitive  either  all  over  or 
in  spots.  In  the  more  complex  animals  the  cells 
in  certain  areas  became  more  sensitive  than  the 
rest  of  the  periphery.  As  these  cells  multiplied 
and  became  specialized  in  function,  in  the  course 
of  the  complicated  processes  of  growth,  some  of 
them  were  folded  into  the  interior  of  the  body 
to  become  ganglia  and  nerve-fibres,  leaving 
others  on  the  exterior  to  perform  the  original 
function  of  sensitivity.  The  brain  represents  the 
chief  group  of  these  infolded  cells.  The  sense- 
organs  represent  those  which  were  left  on  the 
surface  of  the  body.  The  growing  centralization 
of  the  nervous  system,  as  we  pass  up  the  animal 
scale,  has  resulted  in  the  subordination  of  the 
so-called  lower  centres  to  a  central  group  of 
ganglia  located  in  the  head.  This  grdup  of 
ganglia  we  call  the  brain.  The  nervous  system 
is  thus  a  limited  monarchy  rather  than  a  repub- 
lic, with  the  brain  as  sovereign. 

The  reason  is  plain,  therefore,  for  the  common 
belief  that  the  brain  is  the  "  seat "  of  conscious- 


96  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

ness.  It  is  the  chief  centre  through  which 
The  pass  the  nerve-currents  which  carry  the 

cfnTcious-  afferent  and  efferent  impulses.  But  this 
ness.  must  not  be  taken  to  mean  that  con- 

sciousness is  located  in  some  particular  part  of 
the  brain,  such  as  the  cortex.  Consciousness  is 
our  name  for  designating  a  certain  kind  of  ad- 
justment which  takes  place  between  two  portions 
of  the  universe,  and  the  organism,  the  brain,  the 
cortex,  represents  the  centre  of  transformation 
of  the  energies  involved  in  the  adjustment.  But 
when  I  gaze  upon  the  stars  at  night,  it  is  just  as 
true,  if  I  am  going  to  use  space-terms  at  all  in 
this  connection,  that  my  consciousness  reaches 
out  into  the  stellar  depths  to  embrace  those 
points  of  light,  as  that  it  is  located  in  the  occi- 
pital part  of  my  head.  Just  as  true,  and  also  just 
as  false  ;  for  the  question  may  be  raised  whether 
this  attempt  to  locate  consciousness  is  not  as 
irrelevant  as  it  would  be  to  restrict  hf e  to  the 
stomach,  or  electricity  or  magnetism  to  the  dy- 
namo. 

What  I  am  can  never  be  understood  from  a 
study  of  my  organism  alone,  for  the  reason  that 
this  is  but  a  small  part  of  the  reality  of  my  be- 
ing. If  my  existence  is  bound  up  with  the  rest 
of  the  dynamic  system  which  I  call  the  universe, 


CONSCIOUSNESS  97 

this  orfjanism  must  be  studied  in  its  relations  to 
the  'whole  of  which  it  is  a  part.  If  you  start  from 
my  organism  as  an  isolated  fact,  you  can  never 
explain  how  I  come  to  experience  a  world  of 
external  things  ;  while,  starting  from  a  world 
of  external  things,  it  is  equally  impossible  to 
understand  how  these  become  imprinted  on  my 
mind.  The  presence  of  the  brain  is  essential  to 
consciousness  because  it  is  necessary  to  maintain 
the  organic  circuit  of  stimulus  and  response.  It 
is  the  special  equating  mechanism  for  conscious 
acts.  But  it  is  part  only  of  a  larger  system  in 
which  it  plays  the  role  of  an  intermediary. 

The  organic  circuit  is  any  simple  or  complex 
coordination  involving  a  reciprocal  relation  of 
stimulus  and  response.  The  unit  of  The  organic 
experience  is  the  act.  All  feelings,  °^''^*- 
thoughts,  words,  movements,  cluster  about  cer- 
tain coordinations  as  pivots  or  centres.  Experi- 
ences go  in  groups.  All  that  one  feels  and  thinks 
is  organized  about  something  that  one  has  done 
or  is  about  to  do.  Experience  is  a  system  of  acts 
within  acts,  or  circuits  within  circuits,  the  rela- 
tive independence  of  any  given  act  or  circuit 
depending  on  the  interests  or  practical  necessi- 
ties of  the  moment.  It  may  be  a  short  circuit  or 
a  long  circuit.   Short  circuits  are  unconscious, 


98  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

as  in  reflex,  instinctive,  and  habitual  action. 
Long  circuits  are  conscious  and,  in  the  higher 
animals,  always  involve  the  cortex.  When  the 
coordination  involves  the  relation  of  the  organ- 
ism as  a  whole  to  the  outside  environment,  it 
is  called  adaptation.  When  it  involves  the  rela- 
tionship of  one  part  of  the  organism  to  another, 
such  as  the  coordination  of  sense-organs  and 
muscles,  it  is  called  adjustment. 

The  processes  of  adaptation  and  adjustment 

involve  the  reciprocal  interaction  of  stimulus 

and  response.  Stimulation  is  not,  as  is 

stimulus  p,  ^    ,^  i 

and  oiten  supposed,  the  merely  passive  re- 

Response.  ■  •  P    •  1  P  'jI  J^       'j^ 

ception  or  impulses  rrom  without:  it 
involves  a  selective  process  on  the  part  of  the 
sense  organs.  A  mere  shock  may  be  an  excitant, 
but  it  is  not  properly  called  a  stimulus,  which  is 
always  of  such  a  nature  as  to  call  out  a  definite 
reaction.  This  factor  of  the  active  selection  of 
the  stimulus  is  seen  in  the  accommodation  of  the 
optical  apparatus  in  looking,  in  the  turning  of 
the  head  and  tension  of  the  ear-muscles  in  listen- 
ing, sniffing  when  we  smell,  smacking  when  we 
taste,  and  in  the  active  exploring  movements  of 
the  fingers  in  touch.  Likewise  the  response  is 
not  a  mere  random  movement :  it  is  determined 
with  reference  to  the  stimulus.  If  the  organism 


CONSCIOUSNESS  99 

is  active  in  the  selection  of  the  stimulus,  it  is 
equally  true  that,  with  reference  to  the  setting 
up  of  a  response,  it  is  passive  to  the  leadings  of 
the  stimulus.  Stimulus  and  response,  in  other 
words,  have  existence  only  within  the  organic 
circuit  or  coordination.  This  may  involve  adap- 
tation to  an  environment  outside  or  adjustment 
within  the  organism  itself,  but  in  either  case  these 
two  functions  of  stimulating  and  responding 
fall  within  the  life-process ;  they  do  not  mean 
the  active  response  of  a  living  organism  to  an 
external  stimulus  which  is  inert  and  dead.  All 
experience  is  sensory  in  one  aspect  and  motor 
in  another  aspect,  according  as  the  emphasis  is 
placed  upon  one  or  other  of  these  phases. 

The  tactile-kinaesthetic  sensations  furnish  the 
fundamental  imagery  of  meaning  because  they 
are  genetically  prior  and  functionally  TheFunda- 

■_•  ,.•  "i"'  1  mental 

most  important  in  maintaining  and  per-  imagery  of 
petuating  the  life-process.  All  other  '*''®^^^^- 
types  of  imagery  are  translated  into  terms  of 
touch  and  movement.  This  is  the  sensational 
basis  of  pragmatism.  We  learn  by  doing;  prac- 
tice makes  perfect,  conduct  is  the  test  of  the  truth 
of  ideas ;  and  conduct  comes  to  consciousness 
primarily  in  terms  of  the  tactile-kiniesthetic 
sense.    All  sensations  and  images  are  ideomotor. 


100         PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 

The  only  difference  between  the  tactile-kinaes- 
thetic  and  the  other  forms  of  imagery  is  in  the 
directness  with  which  they  lead  to  action.  The 
tactile  and  kinaesthetic  images  arise  out  of  and 
lead  directly  to  movement  of  some  sort.  Audi- 
tory, visual,  olfactory,  and  gustatory  forms  of 
imagery  must  first  be  translated  into  these 
terms.  With  the  advance  of  civilization  and  cul- 
ture the  tactile  and  kinaesthetic  seem  to  have 
been  brouofht  into  subservience  to  the  visual  and 
auditory  imagery,  largely  because  of  the  pre- 
dominance of  verbal  symbols ;  but  this  is  only 
apparent,  since  it  requires  only  a  little  introspec- 
tive analysis  to  disclose  the  motor-cues  operating 
perhaps  all  the  more  effectively  because  sub- 
consciously beneath  the  threshold.  Where  this 
subordination  has  not  taken  place,  as  in  the  in- 
stance of  Helen  Keller,  the  tactile-kinaesthetic 
imagery  retains  its  original  function,  and  be- 
comes not  only  the  fundamental,  but  the  only 
imagery  of  meaning  in  a  way  that  is  not  con- 
ceivable in  the  case  of  the  visual  and  auditory 
alone. 

The  special  function  of  the  brain  in  the  or- 
ganic circuit  is  to  adapt  the  organism  to  com- 
paratively irregular  variations  in  the  stimulus. 
Tropisms,  reflexes,  and   instincts   provide  for 


CONSCIOUSNESS  101 

response  to  definite  and  invariable  stimuli,  but 
the  brain  and  consciousness  are  neces- 

7116  St}6c121 

sary  to  provide  for  adjustment  to  a  Function  oi 
variable  stimulus.  When,  therefore, 
we  say  that  consciousness  is  a  functioning  of 
the  brain,  this  need  not  be  understood  in  a 
materialistic  sense.  The  neurologist  says  that 
thought  is  a  function  of  the  cortex  in  the  same 
sense  that  the  student  of  physics  says  that  it  is 
the  function  of  the  electric  motor  to  generate 
power.  The  physicist  does  not  mean  that  this 
piece  of  material  apparatus  produces  another 
material  thing  called  power.  As  a  man  of  science 
he  holds  that  there  is  no  more  matter  in  the  uni- 
verse after  the  current  is  started  through  the 
cojl  of  the  instrument  than  there  was  before: 
there  is  simply  a  redistribution  of  energy.  The 
readjustment  involves  changes  in  the  environ- 
ment, and  this  obvious  effect,  by  a  figure  of 
speech,  is  attributed  to  power  in  the  motor,  or  we 
speak  of  this  effect  as  generated  by  the  motor. 
The  neurologist  does  not  mean  that  conscious- 
ness is  something  new  produced  or  generated  by 
the  nervous  system.   Consciousness   is 

-'  .  .  This  la 

the  name  for  a  certain  readjustment  or  not  Ma- 
redistribution  of  energy  focused  in  the 
organism,  just  as  Power  is  the  physicist's  name 


102         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

for  an  analogous  readjustment  in  the  case  of  the 
motor.  When  the  physiologist  speaks  of  diges- 
tion as  the  function  of  the  stomach,  or  of  the 
secretion  of  bile  as  the  function  of  the  liver,  he 
does  not  mean  that  the  stomach  produces  any- 
thing new,  that  the  liver  creates  bile  out  of  no- 
thing. These  are  processes  of  transformation 
merely.  An  adequate  science  of  digestion  im- 
plies the  study  of  foods  as  well  as  of  the  alimen- 
tary canal.  Digestion  is  our  term  for  describing 
the  process  of  interaction  which  takes  place 
when  these  two  realities  (food  and  stomach) 
come  together.  We  do  not  accuse  a  scientist  of 
materialism  because  he  explains  digestion  in 
terms  of  the  chemistry  of  foods  and  the  mechan- 
ics of  alimentation.  We  do  not  feel  obliged  to 
call  in  some  special  "  vital  force  "  to  explain  it. 
Why  should  we  in  explaining  the  operation  of 
the  brain  or  nervous  system  ? 

The  "  soul "  represents  simply  the  last  stand 
which  a  doctrine  of  occult  forces  is  making  in 
B^^  the  case  of   the  youngest  of  the  ex- 

Energism.  perimeutal  sciences.  Consciousness  is 
neither  a  cause  nor  an  effect  of  the  brain.  It  is 
simply  the  tensional  activity  or  readjustment 
process  which  takes  place  in  the  universe  at 
one  point  or  another  in  what  are  called  organ- 


CONSCIOUSNESS  103 

isms,  wherever  cosmic  energies  are  brought  into 
interaction  in  certain  definite  ways.  Pass  an  elec- 
tric current  through  a  straight  wire  and  it  pur- 
sues a  rectilinear  or  progressional  path.  Wind 
the  wire  into  a  coil  and  approximate  the  two 
ends,  and  this  energy  is  transformed  into  a 
cyclical  or  rotational  motion  which  gives  the 
coil  individuality  as  a  magnet.  An  organism,  a 
brain,  a  consciousness,  a  personality,  has  the 
same  sort  of  individuality  that  we  find  in  a 
solenoid  or  in  a  gyroscope  —  it  is  a  relatively  in- 
dependent system  of  internally  balanced  vector 
activities  having  a  maximum  of  adjustability  of 
its  various  parts  in  relation  to  each  other  and 
of  adaptability  as  a  whole  to  the  surrounding 
conditions  of  the  environment. 

§    9.    THE    LAW    OF    CONSCIOUSNESS 

Tension  is  the  condition  of  consciousness. 
By  this  is  meant  that  consciousness  appears 
only  when  the  process  of  action  is  rela-  tension  the 
tively  impeded  or  interrupted.  Activity  c°asJfo°°g"* 
is  going  on  all  the  time  in  tropism,  '^®^'- 
reflex,  instinct,  and  habit.  But  these  become 
consciously  performed  when  there  arises  relative 
stress  or  conflict  in  adjustment.  Experience  is 
a  continuous  dynamic  stream  of  activity  with 


104         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

moments  of  check  and  reinforcement,  alternate 
resistances  and  controls.  Consciousness  super- 
venes at  tlie  break  in  the  circuit,  at  the  point 
of  disadaptation  or  maladjustment,  where  old 
instincts  or  habits  are  being  broken  down  and 
new  ones  are  being  built  up.  Consciousness  thus 
is  the  growing-point  of  experience.  It  is  the 
new  thing  in  nature.  It  follows  the  shifting 
area  of  transformation  as  it  gyrates  from  point 
to  point  striving  to  meet  the  needs  of  the  or- 
ganism. 

A  certain  amount  of  resistance  or  tension 
seems  to  be  necessary  for  the  running  of  any 
machine.  If  there  were  absolutely  no  friction 
an  engine  would  stop.  The  ball-bearings  of  a 
bicycle  are  not  designed  to  eliminate  friction : 
they  simply  reduce  it  at  points  where  it  would 
be  a  hindrance.  So  it  is  with  that  intricate  psy- 
chophysical machine  which  we  call  the  human 
body.  Because  of  the  smooth  working  of  its 
parts  and  the  relative  infrequency  of  any  serious 
mal-coordination,  we  are  prone  to  forget  it,  but 
the  physician  will  readily  point  out,  not  only 
the  abnormal  and  injurious  frictions  which  arise 
in  disease,  but  the  normal  resistances  which  are 
necessary  to  the  healthy  functioning  of  the  or- 
ganism.  Consciousness  is  conditioned  on  con- 


CONSCIOUSNESS  105 

tinual  change  in  the  stimulus.  One  does  not 
notice  a  well-fitting-  garment  at  all,  but  if  it 
fails  to  fit  or  is  different  from  what  one  is  accus- 
tomed to  wear,  he  feels  it  at  once.  Action  is 
unconscious  when  smooth  and  unimpeded.  Only 
when  interrupted  or  checked  does  it  become 
conscious. 

Let  us  suppose  that  I  am  trying  to  write  a 
letter  on  the  arm  of  my  chair.   I  am  actively 
pushing  the  pencil  over  the  paper  when 
suddenly  the  point  breaks.  Up  to  this  tionwnt- 

. .  •  1    ,  •      1  1  •  ^S  a  Letter. 

time  my  experience,  relatively  speaking, 
has  been  unified.  It  has  been  a  unity  so  far  as 
pencil,  paper,  chair,  and  pen-knife  are  concerned. 
These,  with  myriad  other  things,  have  been 
lost  in  the  total  situation  of  letter-writinsr.  The 
only  tension  has  been  that  involved  in  keeping 
up  the  train  of  ideas  which  was  finding  expres- 
sion in  the  act  of  writing.  With  reference  to 
everything  else  the  situation  has  been  an  im- 
mediate totality.  But  now,  when  the  pencil 
catches  in  a  crack  in  the  chair  and  the  point 
breaks,  the  train  of  ideas  recedes  into  the  mar- 
gin and  the  pencil-chair  situation  emerges.  Pen- 
cil, chair,  pen-knife,  table,  jut  out  into  con- 
sciousness because  of  difficulty  encountered  in 
the  writing-process.  It  is  because  of  the  tension 


106         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

between  pencil  and  chair  and  the  demand  for 
a  knife  to  sharpen  the  pencil  and  the  desire  for 
a  table  to  write  on,  that  these  things  suddenly 
come  into  the  focus  of  attention.  One  thing 
comes  to  be  consciously  set  over  against  another 
thing  only  when  there  has  been  relative  failure 
in  coordinating  them. 

As  another  example  take  the  process  of  com- 
munication by  speech.  In  so  far  as  I  am  ade- 
luustra-  quately  interpreting  the  meaning  you 
m^Sn  intend  to  convey  by  your  words,  or  ef- 
by  Speech,  fectively  expressing  my  meaning  to 
you  by  my  words,  the  process  of  communication 
itself  is  not  explicit.  It  is  still  merged  in  the 
immediacy  of  the  act.  But  if  for  any  reason 
speech  falters,  if  I  fail  to  get  your  meaning  or 
to  express  mine  so  that  you  understand  it,  then 
the  meaning  of  the  words  themselves  comes  into 
question  and  discussion  arises.  The  language 
itself  becomes  the  subject  of  conscious  analysis 
and  criticism,  until  we  come  to  some  mutual 
understanding  of  our  common  meaning.  This 
polarizing  process,  in  which  one  thing  comes 
into  conscious  antagonism  and  interaction  with 
another  thing,  is  incident  to  the  attempted 
reconstruction  of  the  situation  into  a  more  ade- 
quate form.    Experience  undergoing  such  re- 


CONSCIOUSNESS  107 

construction  from  ■within  is  conscious.  In  the 
more  fluent  and  unimpeded  phase  it  tends  to 
become  unconscious. 

Psychophysics  illustrates  this  law  of  tension, 
in  its  determination  of  thresholds,  the  summa- 
tion of  stimuli,  and  the  lag  of  sensation  psychoiogi- 
behind  stimulus.  It  requires  a  greater  m^n^^ome 
degree  of  intensity  of  stimulus  to  pro-  ^'^' 
duce  consciousness  in  some  cases  than  in  others. 
This  is  expressed  by  the  Weber-Fechner  law, 
which  defines  for  different  sense-spheres  the 
relative  amount  of  stimulus  requisite  to  produce 
a  noticeable  difference  in  sensation.  The  lag-  of 
sensation  represents  the  neural  inertia  of  the 
different  sense-organs  due  to  the  inhibitory  ef- 
fect of  competing  stimuli.  The  duration,  exten- 
sity,  and  intensity  of  stimulation  requisite  to 
produce  a  given  sensational  effect  depends  upon 
the  deo^ree  in  which  the  orgfans  involved  are 
already  preoccupied  or  set  in  other  directions 
by  rival  coordinations.  The  study  of  sensation 
in  experimental  psychology  is  largely  a  techni- 
cal investigation  of  the  nature  and  limits  of 
this  tension,  while  the  study  of  the  reaction- 
times  of  different  sensorimotor  mechanisms  in- 
dicates the  corresponding  facilitation  or  habitu- 
ation of  such  stimuli.  Genetic  and  comparative 


108         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

psychology,  on  the  other  hand,  trace  the  types 
of  such  tension-systems  through  the  different 
stages  of  development,  and  compare  them  in 
different  individuals  and  species  of  animal  life. 
Consciousness  thus  is  coming  to  be  stated  dy- 
namically as  a  mode  of  activity,  instead  of  being 
regarded  as  a  mvsterious  occult  accom- 

TheKeyto  -  .        n     i  ''    -  xi 

psychogen-  panimcnt  01   brain-process  or  as  the 

Gsis 

manifestation  of  some  spiritual  sub- 
stance called  the  soul.  All  consciousness,  in  this 
sense,  is  motor.  Feeling  and  thought  are  types 
of  transformation  of  energy,  modes  of  adapta- 
tion and  adjustment.  A  feeling  or  a  thought  is 
an  incipient  movement.  An  image  is  a  nascent 
act  — a  motor-cue.  This  is  the  key  to  the  prob- 
lem of  psychogenesis  which  has  so  baffled  the 
comj^arative  psychologist.  Consciousness  is  to 
be  regarded  as  a  kind  of  beha\'ior  which  may 
be  treated  objectively  like  any  other  phenome- 
non in  nature.  The  only  difference  lies  in  the 
complexity  of  the  dynamic  interactions  involved. 
As  the  end  or  purpose  of  an  act  becomes  more 
remote  from  the  means  for  achieving  it,  the 
motor  cues  become  swamped  in  the  idea  of  the 
end.  As  the  functions  of  the  ear  and  the  eye 
arise,  the  more  primitive  tactile  and  kinaesthetic 
images  no  longer  stand  out  distinctly  as  mo- 


CONSCIOUSNESS  109 

tor-cues  (which  still  they  are),  but  are  vaguely 
iucluded  in  the  auditory  and  visual  idea  of  the 
end.  The  problem  of  the  evolution  of  conscious- 
ness is  therefore  the  problem  of  unraveling  the 
strands  by  which  the  original  ideomotor  action 
has  been  complicated  by  successive  graftings 
upon  it  of  similar  motor-cues,  until  the  relation 
to  the  originally  active  phase  of  coordination 
is  lost  in  the  preponderance  of  the  derivative 
imagery. 

We  have  said  that  consciousness  occurs  wher- 
ever there  is  tension  in  the  coordination.  This 
does  not  signify  that  there  is  conscious-  Relativity 
ness  wherever  there  is  friction  of  any  °*  ^^  ^^^' 
sort  or  deofree.  The  fact  that  for  an  outside  ob- 
server  there  is  action  and  reaction  of  forces  is 
no  proof  of  the  presence  of  consciousness.  It 
must  be  tension  relative  to  the  existing  or  preced- 
ing state  of  equilibrium  in  the  given  dynamic 
system.  It  must  be  conflict  from  the  point  of 
view  of  the  situation  which  contains  the  opposed 
factors.  A  stimulus  which  is  perceptible  under 
one  set  of  conditions  may  not  be  perceptible  in 
another  setting.  A  word  spoken  by  a  friend  at 
my  side,  if  uttered  in  the  privacy  of  my  room, 
will  call  forth  a  response  from  me  when  it  will 
not  on  the  noisy  street  or  amid  the  roar  of  a 


110         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

subway  express.  Why  there  ever  should  be  re- 
sistance or  obstruction  in  action  is  an  ultimate 
question  here  as  much  and  as  little  as  in  physics. 
The  Hegelian  doubtless  would  say  that  pure 
spontaneity  posits  resistance  as  its  own  other. 
The  evolutionist  attributes  it  to  the  environment. 
But  that  no  more  accounts  for  the  presence  of 
this  element  of  opposition  which  bifurcates  ex- 
perience in  consciousness,  than  it  accounts  for 
the  principle  of  variation  in  evolution  or  for  the 
chemical  afi&nities  and  electrical  polarities  in 
physical  science. 

Consciousness  is  present  at  the  initiation  of 
new  modes  of  activity  on  the  part  of  the  organ- 
ism, since  in  such  cases  there  is  a  rela- 
tion of  Con-  tive  disturbance  of  the  vital  equilibrium 
and  a  conflict  of  competing  impulses. 
In  the  lowest  organisms  the  conditions  of  ten- 
sion would,  of  course,  be  very  simple  and  the 
range  of  alternative  modes  of  response  ex- 
ceedingly limited  —  the  consciousness  is  cor- 
respondingly vague.  Contrast  the  problems 
which  present  themselves  to  an  amoeba  and  to  a 
mammal.  The  environment  of  the  former  is  rela- 
tively homogeneous ;  that  of  the  latter  is  con- 
stantly shifting,  not  alone  by  changes  inherent 
in  the  environment,  but  also  by  reason  of  the 


CONSCIOUSNESS  111 

voluntary  movements  of  the  animal  itself.  Or 
contrast  the  hunger  of  an  oyster  with  that  of  a 
man,  and  the  simplicity  of  the  means  employed 
to  satisfy  this  craving  in  the  one  ease  with  the 
complexity  of  the  means  used  in  the  other.  A 
thousand  complicated  economic  and  social  in- 
strumentalities unite  to  spread  the  feast  to 
which  the  civilized  man  sits  down  at  every  meal, 
while  the  hunger  of  the  bivalve  must  for  the 
most  part  await  the  food  that  chance  throws  in 
its  way. 

By  the  primitive  consciousness,  things,  ob- 
jects, situations  are  taken  in  their  totality.  It 
is  only  in  the  hiorhly  developed  animal 

, ,  1  •  111       PrimlUve 

that  one  thing  comes  to  stand  clearly  conscious- 
for  another,  or  that  memory-images 
and  constructive  ideals  split  apart  the  inchoate 
present  into  a  definite  past  and  an  indeterminate 
future.  It  is  because  of  this  lack  of  the  condi- 
tions of  complication  that  man  has  been  loath 
to  credit  the  lower  animal  with  consciousness. 
But  while  it  may  not  be  there  in  the  determi- 
nate form  in  which  we  experience  it  in  ourselves, 
is  there  any  reason  to  deny  that  it  is  vaguely 
present  when  the  conditions  of  tensional  reor- 
ganization do  exist  ?  We  must  not  fall  into  the 
historical  fallacy  of  reading  back  human  traits 


112         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGAIATISM 

into  the  animal  consciousness.  But  there  is  a 
counter  danger,  on  the  other  hand,  that  in  the 
attempt  to  avoid  anthropomorphizing  them  we 
fail  to  give  the  lower  animals  their  due.  The 
consciousness  of  an  oyster  cannot  be  inter- 
preted in  terms  of  our  individualistic  selfhood, 
because  the  conditions  of  social  tension  are  not 
present  to  develop  the  consciousness  of  self ; 
but  there  is  no  reason,  when  the  conditions  are 
present,  why  consciousness  may  not  come  spo- 
radically in  vague  flashes  of  feeling  in  connection 
with  the  crises  and  emergencies  of  the  struggle 
for  life. 

The  chief  criticism  to  be  made  upon  the  re- 
sults of  the  recent  experimental  school  of  com- 
The  crite-  P^rative  psychologists  is  that  the  arti- 
conscious-  filial  conditions  of  the  experiments 
ness.  interfere  with  the  natural  proclivities 

of  the  animals  experimented  upon.  The  experi- 
ments do  not  approximate  the  conditions  to 
which  the  animals  are  accustomed  in  the  state 
of  nature.  Hence  the  negative  conclusions  in 
relation  to  their  possessing  consciousness  and 
intelligence  are  unreliable.  An  animal  may  be 
expected  to  exhibit  what  intelligence  it  possesses 
only  when  the  problem  to  be  solved  lies  along 
the  line  of  its  inherent  abilities.  Purposefulness 


CONSCIOUSNESS  113 

is  not  an  adequate  criterion,  since  we  find  evi- 
dence of  adaptation  of  means  to  ends  through- 
out nature:  all  nature  is  purpose/w/  but  not 
all  natural  processes  are  consciously  purposu'e. 
The  ability  to  learn  by  experience,  to  vary  the 
use  of  means  in  the  attainment  of  an  end,  is 
the  only  satisfactory  criterion,  and  this  can  be 
applied  only  in  relation  to  the  demands  being 
made  upon  the  organism  in  the  given  situation. 

§    10.    THE   LAW   OF  FACILITATION 

Consciousness  arises  in  conflict,  but  tends 
constantly  toward  the  restoration  of  the  or- 
ganic equilibrium.  It  points  to  some-  Tte Ten- 
thing  beyond  itself,  to  the  new  coordi-  tTrYEqui- 
nation,  to  a  more  adequate  experience.  ^^^*'™- 
The  relatively  tensional  phase  of  conscious  ac- 
tion is  perfectly  continuous  with  the  relatively 
stable  unconscious  phases.  There  is  no  infringe- 
ment of  the  law  of  conservation  and  intercon- 
vertibility  of  energy.  We  simply  have  one 
name,  "  consciousness,"  for  describing  action 
when  it  is  relatively  tensional,  and  another, 
"  habit,"  for  describing  it  when  it  is  in  relative 
equilibrium.  This  conception  is  divested  of  all 
objections  from  the  metaphysical  side  if  it  is 
borne  in  mind  that  consciousness  is  no  more  an 


114         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

entity  than  habit,  that  like  habit  it  represents 
the  hf  e  of  the  organism  under  a  given  set  of  con- 
ditions. Sleep  is  a  relatively  stable  equilibrium 
lasting  for  hours.  Moments  of  absent-minded- 
ness or  motor-automatism  exhibit  a  transitory 
and  local  equilibrium  of  briefer  duration.  Con- 
sciousness represents  this  equilibrium  disturbed 
and  seeking  to  reestablish  itself  on  a  fresh  basis 
which  will  harmonize  the  conflicting  factors. 
Thus  experience  presents  the  phenomenon  of 
previously  unconscious  activities  coming  into 
the  focus  of  attention,  and,  under  certain  con- 
ditions, passing  out  again  through  successive 
stages  of  marginal  consciousness  until  they  be- 
come unconscious  again  as  habits. 

In  order  to  understand  conscious  experience 
it  must  be  viewed  in  the  light  of  its  relations 
The  Con-  ^^  that  mvsterious  background  which 
thlTncon-  ^^  Called  the  unconscious  or  subcon- 
scious, scious  or  subliminal  self.  Experience  is 
all  that  one  is  and  does,  and  one  is  and  does 
many  things  of  which  he  is  not  immediately 
aware.  Deep-rooted  instincts  and  impulses  grip 
us  from  below,  and  against  our  will  at  times 
hurry  us  along  to  acts  of  which  we  repent  at 
leisure.  Habits  we  are  conscious  of  having  our- 
selves built  up  bind  us  in  a  slavery  from  which 


CONSCIOUSNESS  115 

we  vainly  try  to  escape.  How  are  we  to  explain 
these  spectres  which  lurk  in  the  background  and 
hold  us  in  their  thrall?  How,  in  other  words,  is 
our  conscious  related  to  our  unconscious  experi- 
ence ?  The  answer  in  a  word  is  this :  the  conscious 
develops  within  the  unconscious;  consciousness 
develops  within  and  for  the  sake  of  action. 

On  the  one  side  we  have  the  law  of  tension : 
conflict  between  means  and  ends  in  conscious- 
ness. Tension,  of  course,  implies  inter- 
action. The  two  phases  are  not  simply  Pacmta 
opposed :  in  order  to  be  held  apart  they 
must  be  brought  into  relation.  An  absolute  ten- 
sion would  result  in  separation,  and  conscious- 
ness would  vanish  with  the  complete  dissociation 
of  the  two  aspects.  The  consciousness  of  this 
moment  remains  such  only  by  virtue  of  the  fact 
that  the  two  aspects,  while  they  are  in  tension, 
at  the  same  time,  and  indeed  just  because  they 
are  so,  are  also  in  a  relation  of  mutual  rein- 
forcement. On  the  other  side,  we  have  the  law 
of  facilitation.  The  unconscious  act  is  one 
which  has  been  mechanized  by  frequent  repeti- 
tion of  a  conscious  coordination.  The  law  of 
facilitation  is  the  law  of  habit  by  which  a  pre- 
viously conscious  act  is  rendered  automatic. 

The  phenomena  of  dissociation  and  automa- 


116         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

tism  in  abnormal  psychology  afford  striking 
Dissocia-  examples  of  the  laws  of  tension  and 
Au°om^-  facilitation  in  their  reciprocal  relations, 
tism.  Dissociation  of  mental  states,  as  illus- 

trated in  the  split-off  consciousness  and  in  dual 
or  multiple  personality,  shows  the  effects  of 
extreme  operation  of  the  law  of  tension,  while 
obsessions,  fixed  ideas,  and  certain  kinds  of  auto- 
matism exhibit  pathological  examples  of  the  law 
of  facilitation.  Extreme  tension,  in  fact,  is  the 
condition  by  which  certain  coordinations  become 
dissociated  from  the  rest  of  the  psychophysical 
system  and  thus  permanently  side-tracked  in 
the  form  of  uncontrollable  automatisms,  while 
it  is  this  disorganization  of  the  coordinations 
which  is  the  chief  evidence  relied  upon  for  pro- 
nouncing the  associative  processes  abnormal. 
Consciousness  and  habit  represent,  therefore, 
two  opposed  principles  in  our  experience,  the 
one  tending  to  pull  it  to  pieces  and  analyze 
it,  the  other  to  unify  and  integrate  it.  Habit 
everywhere  means  organized  experience.  Con- 
sciousness everywhere  is  the  sign  of  incomplete 
organization.  This  does  not  mean  that  complete 
automatism  is  the  ideal  state,  for  that  would 
mean  a  fixed,  finished  completedness,  which  is 
contrary  to  our  modern  idea  of  perfection.  The 


CONSCIOUSNESS  117 

ideal,  rather,  is  a  state  of  perpetual  reorganiza- 
tion in  which  the  very  sense  of  incompleteness 
implies  an  advancing  standard  of  perfection. 
Perfection  means  perfecting. 

But  why,  it  may  be  asked,  do  we  speak  of 
"conscious"  experience?  Does  not  this  imply 
that  there  is  an  experience  which  is  un- 
conscious ?  And  how  can  we  speak  of  soious  Ex- 
experiencing  that  of  which  we  are  uncon-  *"  *°''°' 
scious?  This  is  the  same  difficulty  we  encoun- 
tered  in  endeavoring    to  describe    the  reality 
which  lies  beyond  our  knowledge.  As  we  are 
compelled  to  describe  the  unknown  in  terms  of 
knowledge,  so  here  we  seem  obliged  to  state 
the  unconscious  in  terms  of  consciousness.  Taken 
in  an  absolute  sense,  the  w?2conscious  would  seem 
to  be  as  purely  negative  in  significance  as  the 
i?ifinite  and  the  immaterial. 

Various  devices  have  been  invented  to  escape 
this  apparent  dilemma.  The  relation  of  the  con- 
scious to  the  unconscious  is  commonly  expressed 
by  the  figure  of  a  limen  or  threshold,  or  by  a 
wave  on  the  surface  of  the  sea.  All  that  lies 
above  a  certain  line  is  conscious,  all  below 
this  line  is  unconscious.  But  this,  at  any  given 
time,  seems  to  relegate  a  part  of  experience  to 
the  realm  of  the  unknowable,  and  is  open  to 


118         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

the  objections  mentioned  in  the  preceding  para- 
graph. Similar  objections  may  be  raised  if  con- 
sciousness is  conceived  under  the  figure  of  a 
limited  focal  area  within  a  larger  field,  in  which 
the  unconscious  is  represented  by  the  fringe  or 
successive  marginal  areas.  And  these  objections, 
though  to  a  less  degree,  apply  to  the  figure  in 
which  experience  is  likened  to  a  stream  in  which 
consciousness  appears  as  frothing  into  foam 
where  the  water  breaks  upon  a  boulder  in  its 
course.  These  conceptions  are  all  misleading, 
because  by  the  very  metaphors  used  it  is  as- 
sumed that  the  conscious  and  the  unconscious 
are  different  contents,  which  is  just  the  point 
at  issue. 

The  relation  is  a  more  dynamic  one.  The  con- 
scious and  the  unconscious  represent  different 
Funded  Ex-  fuuctious  withiu  the  process  of  experi- 
perienoe.  eucc,  different  ways  in  which  the  move- 
ment proceeds,  and  consequently  exist  only  in 
relation  to  each  other.  Experience  may  be  con- 
ceived as  a  complex  dynamic  system,  and  con- 
sciousness as  a  more  emphatic  phase  or  locus 
within  this  system.  Or,  better  still,  we  may  say 
that  the  so-called  unconscious  is  a  name  for  de- 
scribing organized  consciousness,  capitalized  or 
funded  experience  —  the  positive  equipment  of 


CONSCIOUSNESS  119 

instincts  and  habits  by  which  consciousness  per- 
forms its  function  of  mediating  further  experi- 
ence. The  unconscious  is  the  available  machinery 
of  experience  by  which  it  evolves  itself  to  higher 
levels.  The  unconscious  is  related  to  conscious 
experience  somewhat  as  the  energy  of  inertia  in 
physics  is  related  to  the  energy  of  motion  :  it  is 
potential  as  contrasted  with  kinetic  energy. 

§    11.   HABIT   AND  ATTENTION 

It  is  obvious  from  what  has  been  said  that 
experience  is  at  once  unitary  and  diverse.  In  a 
dynamic  system  there  is  no  such  thing  ^^6  umty 
as  simple  unity  or  mere  multiplicity,  ^^si^o?^" 
An  absolutely  single  and  simple  unity  E^perionoo. 
could  have  no  diversity  within  it,  and  there 
could  be  nothing  beyond,  for  in  either  case  this 
would  mean  relation,  and  that  would  destroy  the 
distinctionless  simplicity.  On  the  other  hand, 
an  absolute  multiplicity  or  plurality  is  self-con- 
tradictory, because,  in  order  to  be  plural,  the 
various  elements  must  exist  tojjether  and  this 
introduces  relation  and  therefore  a  certain 
unity.  Experience  is  a  diversity  in  unity,  an 
identity  in  the  midst  of  difference. 

What  makes  experience  one  ?   A  boy  strikes 
a  match  and  touches  it  to  a  rocket.  It  hisses, 


120         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

spurts,  and  plunges  up  into  the  air,  leaving  a 

trail  o£  sparks  behind.    It  bursts  into  a  shower 

of  stars  and  finally  sinks  away,  its  last 

Tie  Gontl-        .  .  .         . 

nuityinBx-  sign  a  woodeu  stick  dropping  inertly  to 
the  ground.  What  makes  this  "  one  " 
experience  to  the  boy  ?  The  answer  is  found  in 
the  unity  of  the  act  or  organic  circuit  which 
underlies  it.  An  experience  is  unified  if  it  fol- 
lows the  line  of  easy  and  familiar  adjustment, 
if  it  exploits  a  habit.  Those  things  tend  to 
go  together  which  have  gone  together  in  the 
past. 

What  makes  experiences  many?  What  leads 

us  to  distinguish  one  experience  from  another  ? 

What  determines  the  breakins^  up  of 

TheTransl-  .  .  •  o  n^^ 

tions  oi  Ex-  experience  into  experiences  ?  The  tran- 

perlence.  .   .         „  ^  p 

sition  iromone  act  to  another  act,irom 
one  organic  circuit  or  situation  to  another,  is  the 
answer.  When  an  experience  ceases  to  satisfy, 
or  the  coordination  ceases  to  adapt,  a  distinction 
appears.  Suppose  a  lecture  in  process.  This  is 
a  comparatively  unified  experience.  Suddenly 
some  one  rushes  into  the  room  crying,  "Fire!" 
Immediately  a  new  situation,  a  new  circuit,  arises, 
and  a  new  coordination  calHng  out  a  new  act. 
There  is  a  break  in  the  experience  and  a  new 
conscious  reconstruction  is  initiated,  which  con- 


CONSCIOUSNESS  121 

tinues  until  a  reunification  takes  place  on  a  dif- 
ferent level.  This  process  of  transition,  with  its 
accompanying  phenomena,  is  called  attention. 
If  habit  is  likened  to  a  circle  with  a  single  cen- 
tre, attention  may  be  likened  to  the  tangential 
tendencies  which  would  pull  the  circle  out  into 
an  ellipse  with  its  rival  foci. 

Attention  and  habit  are  the  psychological 
counterparts  of  tension  and  facilitation.  Habit 
is  the  stable,  attention  the  variant  ele- 

.  .     .  Habit 

ment  in  experience.  Habit  is  conserva-  means  tho 

^.         .  .  Tj   i,v  •      FaclUtatlon 

tive,  attention  is  progressive.  Habit  is  oiacoordi- 
the  result  of  the  facilitation  of  a  coordi- 
nation ;  attention  always  means  tension.  It  is  the 
psychological  counterpart  of  organic  disadap- 
tation  and  maladjustment.  It  is  the  sign  of  dif- 
ficulty and  effort  in  the  coordination,  as  habit 
expresses  the  ease  and  familiarity  of  response. 
Both  habit  and  attention  may  ultimately  be 
traced  back  to  modes  of  motor-control.  The  in- 
stinct of  lying  in  wait,  holding  one's  self  in 
readiness  to  seize  prey  or  for  flight,  is  its  primi- 
tive form.  The  wild  beast  stalking  its  victim, 
the  Indian  on  the  trail,  the  child  absorbed  in  its 
play,  the  expressions  of  a  person  in  perplexity 
or  engaged  in  study,  —  the  knit  eyebrows,  the 
fixed   gaze,  the  tense  attitude,  the  suspended 


122         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

respiration,  —  these  illustrate  the  cooperation 
of  habit  and  attention  in  the  control  of  experi- 
ence. 

Habits  are  presupposed  in  all  attention. 
Otherwise  with  what  would  we  attend  ?  Atten- 
Attention  *^^^  ^^  simply  the  tension  between  con- 
^o^inaco--  flicting  habit-systems  and  represents 
ordinauon.  ^j^g  effort  of  thesc  Struggling  tenden- 
cies to  reach  a  working  equilibrium.  If  our  hab- 
its prove  inadequate  to  meet  the  exigencies  of 
a  situation,  we  make  them  over,  as  we  say,  by 
directing  the  attention  to  them,  so  as  to  modify 
them  into  more  adequate  forms.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  this  very  act  of  attending  is  a  re- 
directing of  those  very  habits  along  new  lines 
and  in  different  directions.  The  old  habits  per- 
sist in  the  new  functions,  in  a  modified  form. 
The  problem  of  the  controlled  reconstruction  of 
experience,  therefore,  means  the  acquirement  of 
relevant  habits  of  attention.  Control  of  atten- 
tion is  a  matter  of  habit,  while  reliable  habit 
depends  upon  flexibility  of  attention.  The  best 
habit  is  not  the  fixed  and  rigid  type  of  reaction, 
but  one  which  is  adaptable  to  the  conditions 
of  an  evolving  experience.  Thus  we  see  that 
while,  on  the  one  hand,  attention  is  born  in  the 
conflict  of  opposing  habits,  habits,  on  the  other 


CONSCIOUSNESS  123 

hand,  arise  out  of  this  very  process  of  attention 
■when  it  becomes  rhythmic  and  uniform.  Habit 
is  funded  experience.  Attention  is  evolving 
consciousness. 

So  far  we  have  been  speaking  of  the  positive 
aspect  of  the  processes  of  adaptation  and  adjust- 
ment. But  every  act  of  attending 
means  that  other  acts  are  inhibited. 
The  selection  of  one  coordination  implies  the 
rejection  of  others.  Concentration  of  attention 
at  one  point  means  withdrawal  from  other 
points.  This,  however,  does  not  necessitate  the 
exclusion  or  destruction  of  the  inhibited  activ- 
ities, but  their  subordination  to  the  main  line 
of  adjustment.  They  contribute  to,  instead  of 
opposing,  the  intended  act.  The  singer  inhib- 
its the  spasmodic  convulsions  of  the  diaphragm 
due  to  nervousness,  but  only  to  utilize  that  very 
muscle  and  that  same  energy  for  the  production 
of  a  pure  and  sustained  tone.  The  importance 
of  inhibition  appears  in  the  ability  to  attend  to 
that  only  which  at  the  time  demands  attention, 
leaving  unimportant  details  aside.  The  mark  of 
control  in  experience  is  the  ability  to  seize  upon 
the  salient  features  of  a  situation  and  not  be 
led  into  blind  alleys  by  irrelevant  issues.  This 
is  the  end  of  all  education  and  culture  —  the 


124         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

increase  of  central  control  over  unorganized 
peripheral  responses. 

Here,  too,  appears  the  relation  of  attention  to 
sensation.  Sensation  is  the  name  for  a  definite 
and  localized  act  of  attention.    That  "catches 

our  attention"  which  is  relevant  to 
andsensa-    some  need  or  want.  I  do  not  attend  to 

things  in  general,  but  to  this  or  that 
object.  I  see  a  hat  or  smell  a  rose  or  hear  a 
whistle  or  taste  an  orancre  or  touch  the  candle 
flame.  This  attentional  process  takes  place 
throuofh  the  accommodation  of  the  muscles 
which  control  the  sense-organs.  Wholly  suppress 
these  sensorimotor  coordinations  and  you  sup- 
press attention.  As  Maudsley  said,  he  who  is  in- 
capable of  controlling  his  muscles  is  incapable 
of  attention.  We  attend  only  to  objects  which 
have  some  interest  for  us  or  which  are  related 
in  some  way  to  the  demands  of  the  organism. 
The  object  need  not  please  us.  The  man  who 
stared  the  Hon  out  of  countenance  had  no  love 
for  the  lion,  but  his  interest  and  attention  were 
acute.  It  is  not  true  that  we  can  attend  to  any- 
thing we  please,  for  attention  is  the  slave  of  in- 
terest and  interest  roots  in  the  instinctive  life 
of  the  feelings  which  are  largely  beyond  our 
control.  But  attention  may  become  voluntary 


CONSCIOUSNESS  125 

and    deliberate,  and    is    then  called  volition. 
When,  as  we  say,  we  know  what  we  are  going 
to  do,  we  call  attention  will-power,  and 
its  outcome  an  act  of  choice.  Volition  andvou- 
is  thought  and  feeling  going  over  into 
action.    It  is  attention  under  circumstances  in 
which  we  identify  ourselves   so  unmistakably 
with  the  act,  that  it  seems  to  result  wholly  from 
our  own  initiative. 


CHAPTER  IV 
FEELING 

§    12.     DOING,   FEELING,   AND   THINKING 

Professor  Thorndike  has  remarked  that  we 
ought  to  turn  our  views  of  human  psychology 
Experience  upside  down,  and  study  what  is  now 
asAcuon.  casually  referred  to  in  a  chapter  on 
habit  or  on  the  development  of  the  will,  as  the 
general  psychological  law  of  which  the  com- 
monly named  processes  are  derivatives.  Psy- 
chology is  the  science  of  doing,  feeling,  and 
thinking,  in  this  order  of  importance  rather  than 
the  reverse.  Feeling  and  thinking  are  grounded 
in  action.  The  relation  to  these  of  what  is 
called  will  has  been  the  subject  of  much  con- 
troversy. According  to  the  tripartite  view,  in- 
tellect, feeling,  and  will  are  coordinate  and 
equally  fundamental  phases  of  consciousness. 
No  one  is  reducible  to  either  of  the  others. 
According  to  the  bipartite  theory,  there  are 
only  two  irreducible  types  of  conscious  experi- 
ence—  feeling  and  sensation,  what  is  called 
will  being  simply  a  complex  of  affective  and 


FEELING  127 

sensational  elements.  A  careful  analysis  of  the 
facts  seems  to  favor  the  latter  view. 

Two  uses  of  the  term  "  will  "  must  be  clearly 
distinguished  :  a  narrower  use  in  which  it  is 
equivalent  to  volition  or  conscious 
choice,  and  a  wider  one  in  which  will  is 
synonymous  with  activity  or  the  process  of  ex- 
perience in  general.  When  used  in  the  broader 
signification,  both  the  tripartite  and  bipartite 
theories  are  in  a  sense  true,  while  in  the  nar- 
rower use  of  the  term  the  phenomena  of  will 
are  simply  restated  in  different  terms.  As  Pro- 
fessor Angell  has  said,  to  say  that  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  will  is  simply  the  psychologist's 
way  of  saying  that  there  is  nothing  but  will. 
Instead  of  the  traditional  formula,  I  know  some- 
what, feel  somehow,  do  something,  as  though 
these  were  distinct  processes,  one  should  say  I 
feel  and  know  that  I  act  thus  and  so.  Feeling- 
and  thinking  develop  within  and  for  the  sake 
of  doing.  This  makes  will  the  basal  thing,  while 
yet  it  recognizes  no  motor-consciousness  as  such, 
distinct  from  feeling  and  cognition.  The  whole 
process  of  experience  is  dynamic  and  propulsive 
throughout,  whether  it  takes  the  form  of  an 
overt  act  or  of  those  more  subtle  activities  called 
emotion  and  thought.  For  feeling  and  thinking 


128         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

are  just  as  truly  modes  of  action  as  is  a  move- 
ment. In  fact  they  themselves  are  but  incipient 
or  inhibited  acts.  While  not  so  gross  or  obvious 
as  most  muscular  coordinations,  feeling  and 
thinking  are  just  as  truly  sensorimotor  coordi- 
nations as  rowing  a  boat  or  playing  a  piano. 
The  motor-organs  involved  are  the  finer  systems 
of  accessory  muscles  and  hidden  or  remote 
changes  in  the  internal  organs,  but  they  are 
none  the  less  modes  of  action. 

The  phenomena  of  feeling  are  obscure,  in- 
definite, variable,  and  uncertain,  compared  vsdth 
those  of  cognition.  For  this  reason  they  are 
pecuUarly  difficult  to  study  introspec- 
tively.  The  very  act  of  attempting  to 
analyze  them  changes  them  into  something  else. 
Feeling  has  been  called  the  dark  continent  of 
psychological  exploration.  But  this  much  is 
clear :  feeling  is  a  fundamental  mode  of  con- 
scious activity  related  to  cognition  or  thinking 
as  the  vague  and  undefined  matrix  within  which 
the  latter  arises. 

The  fundamental  character  of  feeling  is  ex- 
pressed by  its  two  main  forms,  pain  and  plea- 
Feeiingand  surc,  which  indicate  its  significance  for 
Instinct.  ^jjg  progressive  maintenance  of  the  life 
and  health  of   the  psychophysical   organism. 


FEELING  129 

Feeling  is  a  sort  of  mental  thermometer  or 
algedometer.  It  is  directly  connected  with  the 
functioning,  or  with  the  inhibition  of  the  func- 
tioning, of  those  deep-seated  conative  tendencies 
of  the  organism  called  instincts  and  habits. 
These  instincts  have  been  inherited  from  our 
animal  ancestors,  in  some  instances  with  but 
slight  modification,  in  other  cases  with  large 
modifications  by  the  grafting  upon  them  of 
acquired  reactions.  There  is  usually  a  large 
increment  of  habits  built  up  in  the  lifetime  of 
the  individual,  which,  in  the  case  of  man,  give 
the  peculiar  or  characteristic  tui-n  which  the 
emotions  take  in  the  particular  person. 

Emotions,  in  other  words,  are  connected  or- 
ganically with  the  latent  vestiges  of  originally 
useful  acts.  Fear,  anger,  shame,  sur-  instinct  ana 
prise,  joy,  grief,  each  has  its  character-  ^^^^^°- 
istic  emotional  expression  which  is,  for  the  most 
part,  an  involuntary  and  often  unconscious 
chang-e  in  both  the  hidden  and  overt  activities 
of  the  organism.  In  general,  instinctive  action 
tends  to  be  automatic,  when  it  functions  in  a 
free  and  unimpeded  manner.  Feeling  and  emo- 
tion emersre  when  such  function  is  obstructed 
or  inhibited  for  any  reason.  Instinct  then  be- 
comes impulse,  which  on  the  conscious  side  is 


130         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

known  as  feeling.  The  emotional  reaction  is  an 
impulsive  reaction.  It  differs  from  instinct  in 
being  a  vaguely  total  conscious  response  to  the 
situation  rather  than  a  definitely  accurate  auto- 
matic response.  For  this  reason  emotion  is  the 
bearer  of  the  value  consciousness,  which  comes 
to  us  in  terms  of  that  vague  background  of 
unanalyzed  and  unlocalized  organic  and  tactile- 
kinaesthetic  sensations  which,  while  inarticulate 
as  knowledge,  are  of  supreme  importance  in 
constituting  that  core  of  psychological  identity 
known  as  the  empirical  ego. 

Without  going  into  a  discussion  of  conflict- 
ing views  of  the  nature  and  conditions  of  plea- 
sure and  pain,  the  theory  will  here  be  stated 
which  seems  to  explain  most  of  the  facts.  It 
was  first  formulated  by  the  late  Professor  C.  L. 
Herrick,  who  named  it  the  "  summation-irra- 
diation "  theory,  from  the  two  processes  which 
are  the  fundamental  conditions  of  feeling. 

§  13.    PAIN  AND   PLEASURE 

Aristotle  long  ago  defined  pleasure  as  the  per- 
fect energizing  of  sense  by  its  appropriate  ob- 
iect,  and  modern  writers  have  only  re- 

l^llfiOTlfiS 

phrased  his  doctrine  when  they  relate  it 
to  organic  activities  lying  between  the  extremes 


FEELING  131 

of  excessive  and  deficient  stimulation.  Pleasure, 
it  is  affirmed,  is  connected  with  the  anabolic, 
constructive,  building-up  process  ;  pain,  with  the 
katabolic,  destructive,  tearing-down  process. 
Thwarting  a  habit  is  painful.  Exploiting  a  habit 
is  pleasurable.  Encountering  resistance  is  plea- 
surable only  if  it  results  in  the  final  triumph  of 
a  habit.  Or,  as  Dr.  Marshall  puts  it,  pleasure 
and  pain  are  determined  by  the  relation  between 
the  energy  expended  and  the  energy  received 
at  any  given  moment  by  the  physical  organs 
which  determine  the  content  of  the  moment. 
That  is,  pleasure  is  experienced  whenever  a 
surplus  of  stored  energy  is  discharged  in  the 
reaction  to  the  stimulus ;  pain,  whenever  a  stim- 
ulus claims  a  greater  development  of  energy 
than  the  organ  is  capable  of  affording. 

Reformulating   these  ideas.   Professor  Her- 
rick's  theory  holds  that  the  conditions  of  pleasur- 
able feeling  are  irradiation  (1)  along 
lines  of  habitual  response ;  (2)  of  stim-  and  irraoi- 
uli  whose  summation  and  discharge  fall 
within  the  limits  of  the  normal  functioning  of 
the  organ  or  organs  involved.  Such  reactions  as 
laughing,  sneezing,  tickling,  itching,  inflamma- 
tion illustrate  this  twofold  principle.  So  long 
as  these  processes  fall  well  within  the  limits  of 


132         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

normal  habit,  they  are  not  painful,  and  may  be 
positively  pleasurable.  But  let  the  summation 
exceed  these  limits  in  the  case  of  any  one  of 
them,  and  it  becomes  painful.  Thus,  one  may 
laugh  till  he  cries.  Sneezing,  which  ordinarily 
is  accompanied  by  a  pleasant  feeling  of  rehef, 
may  become  painful.  Tickling  readily  passes 
the  limit  of  pleasure.  Itching  is  pleasurable 
only  when  the  stimulus  is  diffused  as  by  rubbing 
or  scratching  the  part.  And  the  pleasurable  glow 
of  local  hyperaemia  soon  passes  over  into  the 
painful  processes  of  pathological  inflammation. 
The  mechanism  of  irradiation  in  the  case  of 
the  higher  pleasures,  such  as  those  of  the  aes- 
thetic consciousness,  is  to  be  found  in 
anism  oi  the  elaborate  habits  of  attention  des- 
cribed in  the  psychology-books  under 
the  rubrics  of  association  of  ideas,  apperceptive 
systems,  psychical  dispositions,  etc.  These  intel- 
lectual habits  all  have  a  physiological  basis,  of 
course,  differing  from  the  recognized  sense-hab- 
its only  in  the  remoteness  and  subtlety  of  their 
operation.  Professor  Herrick  finds  the  mechan- 
ism for  irradiation,  in  the  case  of  the  higher 
emotions,  in  the  associative  centres  of  the  cortex 
with  their  myriad  paths  and  intricate  mesh  work 
of  conduction-pathways,  corresponding  to  the 


FEELING  133 

complex  ramification  and  the  terminal  arboriza- 
tion of  the  nerves  in  the  erectile  tissues  of  the 
body  in  the  case  of  the  more  intense  of  the  sense- 
pleasures.  But  doubtless  it  is  inaccurate  to  con- 
nect the  intellectual  pleasures  exclusively  with 
the  switch-board  connections  in  the  cortex ; 
they,  too,  ultimately,  involve  vascular  and  other 
metabolic  changes  in  the  peripheral  sensory  and 
motor  apparatus.  Just  what  these  peripheral 
changes  are  in  the  case  of  the  higher  emotions, 
it  is  difficult  to  specify  with  certainty,  in  the 
present  state  of  our  knowledge  ;  but  that  the 
most  abstract  intellectual  processes  involve 
peripheral  sensorimotor  adjustments  no  physi- 
ologist now  doubts.  It  is  simply  a  question  of 
detailed  investigation  which  students  of  physio- 
logical psychology  are  bound  in  time  to  answer. 
Indeed,  the  problem  is  already  beginning  to  be 
solved  by  the  studies  which  are  now  being  pur- 
sued into  the  phenomena  of  motor-control,  vol- 
untary attention,  the  physiological  conditions 
of  emotion,  movement-sensations,  and  so-called 
imageless  thought. 

The  emotions,  then,  are  like  the  sympathetic 
vibrations  of  a  musical  instrument.  If  there  is  a 
conflict  of  vibrations,  dissonance,  pain,  results. 
If  there  is  reinforcement  of  the  fundamental 


134         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

(habit)  by  overtones,  by  connected  systems  (other 
The  Law  oi  habits),  wc  havB  harmony  or  pleasure. 
Emouon.  gtimuli  are  experienced  as  pleasurable 
in  proportion  as  they  relieve  existing  strain  or 
overcome  resistance  and  give  control,  in  each 
case  the  pleasure  being  due  to  the  fact  that  re- 
lief and  control  represent  the  reorganization  of 
the  experience  in  terms  of  fundamental  instincts 
and  habits  of  the  organism.  Discharge,  expres- 
sion, irradiation  of  the  energies,  within  certain 
limits  of  favorable  stimulation,  are  pleasurable 
because  they  take  place  along  the  familiar  and 
easy  paths,  the  lines  of  least  resistance,  of  ha- 
bitual response.  Stimuli  are  experienced  as  pain- 
ful in  proportion  as  they  fail  to  relieve  strain 
or  to  overcome  resistance,  i.  e.  when  the  summa- 
tion of  stimuli  or  inhibition  of  impulses  reaches 
a  point  beyond  the  capacity  of  the  irradiative 
controlling  apparatus  of  habit  to  cope  with  it. 
In  other  words,  stated  as  a  general  principle, 
with  the  limitations  just  noted,  it  may  be  said 
that  pain  means  congestion,  contraction,  ob- 
struction, disadaptation,  a  "  disproportionate- 
ness  of  stimulus  to  the  conveying  power  of  the 
organ."  Pleasure  means  diffusion,  expansion, 
irradiation,  discharge.  In  both  cases  there  is 
summation  of  stimuli,  inhibition  and  conflict 


FEELING  135 

of  impulses,  but  in  the  case  of  pain  this  sum- 
mation finds  no  overflow  or  the  process  of 
inhibition  is  carried  to  the  point  where  the 
subsequent  discharge  results  in  a  further  mal- 
adjustment, because  it  exceeds  the  normal  irra- 
diative  capacity  of  the  habits  involved. 

Fear  and  grief  are  good  illustrations  of  sum- 
mation which  becomes  painful.  The  sudden 
transformations  of  wit  and  humor  il-  mustra- 
lustrate  the  principle  of  irradiation.  ^°^^- 
When  we  seek  to  divert  the  attention  of  the 
hurt  child,  or  take  a  trip  to  EurojDe  to  escape 
the  torture  of  a  consuming  sorrow,  we  are  un- 
consciously employing  this  principle :  we  seek 
a  normal  irradiation  for  the  congested  stimuli 
and  impulses,  by  calling  into  play  a  different 
set  of  habits,  a  greater  variety  and  range  of 
apperceptive  systems.  Why  is  rest  after  hard 
work  pleasant  ?  Whence  the  glow  of  pleasure 
which  accompanies  the  consciousness  of  success, 
even  when  one  is  fatigued?  It  comes  from  the 
fact  that  the  energies  which  have  been  with 
effort  directed  along  less  accustomed  lines  are 
suddenly  released  into  the  more  habitual  chan- 
nels of  familiar  and  easy  response.  Pleasure  is 
connected  with  moderate  stimulation,  with  the 
normal  functioning  of  organs.  But  it  must  be 


136         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

remembered  that  what  is  moderate  and  normal 
varies  with  different  conditions.  Tension  is  the 
condition  of  consciousness  everywhere,  but  this 
tension  is  relative  to  the  situation  and  to  the 
needs  of  the  organism. 

§    14.    THE    RELATIVITY   DOCTRINE 

There  are  two  sets  of  facts  in  apparent  op- 
position to  this  law  of  emotion,  which  must  be 
considered  if  it  is  to  become  an  accredited  prin- 
ciple. 

In  the  first  place,  there  are  all  the  facts  of 
the  relativity  of  pleasure  and  pain.  What  is 
TheReia-  paiuful  to  ouc  pcrsou  may  be  only 
pi^ealwo  agreeably  stimulating  to  another,  and 
and  Pain.  ^^^  same  is  true  for  a  given  individual 
under  different  conditions  of  health,  nervous 
irritability,  and  fatigue.  In  other  words,  sum- 
mation or  irradiation  is  painful  or  pleasurable 
only  under  certain  conditions  of  intensity;  it  is 
relative  to  the  existing  state  of  tension  or  equi- 
librium in  the  organism.  If  pleasure  meant 
merely  ease  of  adjustment,  habit  should  carry 
with  it  the  greatest  pleasure,  and  pain  should 
be  in  direct  ratio  to  difficulty  of  adjustment, 
neither  of  which  is  uniformly  the  case.  Up  to 
the    limit    of   normal    functioning   only,   does 


FEELING  137 

pleasure  increase  with  summation  and  subsequent 
irradiation ;  beyond  this  point  pain  supervenes. 
What  is  the  limit,  in  the  particular  case,  is  de- 
termined by  all  sorts  of  conditions,  hereditary 
and  environmental,  permanent  and  transitory. 
So  that  while  the  general  principle  holds,  that 
when  summation  and  irradiation  lie  between 
certain  limits  of  intensity  normal  to  the  indi- 
vidual organism  it  is  pleasurable,  yet  these  limits 
are  a  sliding  scale  even  in  the  experience  of  that 
individual,  and  of  course  much  more  so  in  the 
comparison  of  different  individuals.  Within 
certain  limits  summation,  inhibition,  stimula- 
tion, tension,  antagonism  of  impulses,  serve  only 
to  heighten  and  enhance  the  pleasure ;  and 
conversely,  beyond  certain  limits  irradiation, 
discharge,  diffusion  of  response,  expression  of 
impulses,  tend  to  weaken  the  pleasurable  emo- 
tion. 

This  relativity  doctrine  perhaps  explains  why 
it  is  that  we  seem  able  to  actually  take  pleasure 
in  certain  painful  experiences,  such  as  ^1,3  ^^j^^ 
the  emotions  of  pity  and  fear,  in  trag-  °'p^- 
edy,  and  what  has  been  called  "  the  enjoyment 
of  pain."  All  excitement,  up  to  a  certain  point, 
tends  to  be  pleasurable.  Hirn,  in  his  "  Origins 
of  Art,"  speaks  of  the  stimulating  effect  of  acute 


138         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

pain,  of  a  heightened  sense  of  life  due  to  men- 
tal suffering,  of  "a  yearning  after  increased 
consciousness,  which  leads  us  to  pursue,  even 
at  the  risk  of  some  passing  pain,  all  feelings 
and  emotions  by  which  our  sensation  of  life  is 
reinforced  and  intensified";  and  cites  the  self- 
woundings  of  the  saints  and  orgiastic  self-lacer- 
ations of  the  Bacchanalian  phrenzy  in  evidence. 
The  truth  is,  as  Miss  Puffer  says,  that  these 
pains  which  we  enjoy  are  not  really  like  the 
pains  of  reaMife,  since  they  leave  us  in  control 
of  the  situation  ;  the  situation  is  finally  resolved 
along  the  line  of  some  habit-system,  whereas 
the  genuine  sufferings  of  actual  life  remain  un- 
resolved; the  breach  in  the  habit-system  is  not 
healed  over.  For  this  reason  we  must  assume 
that  aesthetic  emotion  is  always  and  necessarily 
pleasurable.  A  work  of  art  must  please,  no 
matter  how  repellent  the  subject.  Even  in  case 
of  tragedy  and  the  ugly  in  art  and  this  so-called 
enjoyment  of  pain  there  must  be  a  preponder- 
ance of  pleasurable  emotion,  if  the  object  or 
situation  is  to  fall  within  the  aesthetic  sphere. 

In  the  second  place,  it  is  recognized  that 
while  within  certain  limits  expression  enhances 
pleasure,  it  is  also  true  that  beyond  these  limits 
this  same  expression  diminishes  the  pleasure. 


FEELING  139 

The  ex^Dlanatlon  is  simple  :  the  irradiation  of  the 
stimuhis  to  wider  areas  and  neighbor-  me  surfeit 
ing  organs  results  in  a  greater  diversi-  "*^^«*3"«- 
fication  and  intensification  of  the  stimulus,  calls 
into  play  a  richer  background  of  apperceptive 
habit-systems.  What  is  thus  called  the  initial 
expression  of  the  emotion  viewed  from  the  out- 
side is  really  a  continuation  of  the  summative 
process  by  which  the  stimulus  is  rolled  up  until 
it  has  called  into  operation  the  widest  range  of 
relevant  reaction-systems.  The  extent  to  which 
this  irradiation  or  so-called  expression  of  the 
emotion  serves  thus  to  enrich  rather  than  to 
reduce  its  pleasant  quahty  is  determined  by  the 
resources  of  latent  or  stored  energy  in  the  in- 
dividual, which  are  capable  of  being  released  by 
this  overflow  to  adjoining  areas.  Only  within 
such  limits  is  it  true  that  "  pleasure  feeds  and 
nurtures  itself  by  expression." 

On  the  same  principle  it  is  true  that  pain 
grows  deeper  and  more  widespread  if  and  to  the 
degree  that  it  progressively  implicates 
adjoining  areas  and  organs  so  that  these  uon  ^d 
too  become  "  tied  up  "  in  the  total  in-  ^®'°^^- 
hibitory  process.  It  is  a  commonplace  that  pain 
is  at  its  keenest  when  the  outward  expression 
is  at  its  lowest,  but  it  is  equally  well  recognized 


140         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

that  pain  often  stimulates  intellectual  activity. 
This  is  true,  however,  only  so  long  as  it  does 
not  pass  beyond  a  certain  degree  of  intensity, 
and  is  due  to  the  fact  that  in  the  attempted 
readjustment  a  part  of  the  inhibited  energy  is 
directed  into  relatively  unused  channels.  This 
is  the  explanation  of  the  so-called  chance  hits 
or  extraordinary  insights  —  more  properly  de- 
scribed as  the  unexpected  relevancies — of  gen- 
ius. And  just  as  the  extreme  of  expression  re- 
duces pleasure,  so,  at  last,  inhibition,  if  it  leads 
to  immobility  and  depletion  of  the  vital  forces, 
leads  to  the  reduction  of  pain,  culminating  in  a 
comatose  euthanasia. 

It  is  not  an  accurate  analysis  which  distin- 
guishes two  kinds  of  pleasure :  one  in  which  the 
satisfaction  springs  out  of  habitual,  customary, 
easy  lines  of  activity;  and  another,  the  satis- 
faction which  springs  from  following  fresh,  stim- 
ulating, novel  lines  of  activity,  with  their  poten- 
tial possibilities  of  success.  The  same  principle 
holds  for  both.  Just  as  it  is  not  habit  as  such, 
so  it  is  not  stimulation  as  such,  which  gives  plea- 
sure: it  is  the  relation  or  proportion  between 
these.  The  "novel"  element  liberates  and  ex- 
ercises deeply  ingrained  instincts  and  habits 
whose  function  within  normal  limits  is  pleasur- 


FEELING  141 

able.  It  is  the  relative  freeing^  of  these  habits 
by  the  novel  element,  and  their  tensional  func- 
tioning within  these  limits,  -which  constitutes 
the  pleasure  and  gives  repose. 

§    15.    FEELING  AND   THINKING 

Feeling,  lying  nearer  action  than  thought, 
finds  more  direct  expression  in  movements  of  all 
sorts.    Emotional  expression  is  almost 

.  .  .  Feeling 

■wholly  instinctive.    Given  a  situation  and 
and  certain  conditions,  and  we  cannot 
help  feeling  as  we  do  about  it.  Every  experience 
which  is  of  interest  to  us  calls  forth  uncon- 
sciously emotional  expressions  as  the  sign  of  its 
positive  or  negative  value  for  the  life-process. 
These  instinctive  attitudes  may  be  so  inhibited 
that  they  do   not  find  overt  expression,  but  a 
close  examination  reveals  their  presence  in  the 
quickened  pulse  and  respiration,  in  the  altered 
tonicity  of  the  muscles,  and  in  other  physiologi- 
cal states,  such  as  changes  in  the  secretion  of  * 
the  glands. 

Theories  of  feeling  differ  chiefly  in  the  way 
in  which  they  conceive  the  emotion  to   be  re- 
lated to  these  physiological   changes.  Theories  oi 
The  central  theory,  the  traditional  view,  ^°'°^°°- 
holds  that  feeling  is  a  primary  faculty  of  the 


142         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

mind,  dependent  on  perception  and  leading  to 
volition,  a  sort  of  psychic  force  pent  up  in  the 
soul  and  seeking  an  outlet.  You  see  a  bear,  are 
afraid,  and  run  away.  Perception,  feeling,  ac- 
tion—  this  is  the  order  of  events  according  to 
this  theory.  The  peripheral  theory  of  Lange  and 
James  maintains  that  emotion  is  the  reflex  in 
the  consciousness  of  the  organism  of  its  overt 
or  incipient  acts;  the  emotion  follows  its  ex- 
pression. You  see  a  bear,  run  away,  and  are 
afraid.  Perception,  action,  emotion  is  the  order 
of  events.  According  to  the  summation-irradia- 
tion theory,  emotion  is  conditioned  upon  organic 
tension,  and  neither  precedes  nor  follows  but  is 
constituted  by  its  so-called  expression  in  these 
physiological  changes.  It  is  true  neither  that 
emotions  cause  movements  (central  theory),  nor 
that  they  are  caused  by  movements  (peripheral 
theory),  but  that  feeling  is  action  in  its  inci- 
pient state  of  tensional  conscious  reconstruction, 
as  thinking  is  its  later  more  controlled  form. 

The  history  of  a  cycle  of  feeling  is  this :  In 

the  process  of  adaptation  of  the  organism  in  its 

environment  a  frig-htful  obiect  is  per- 

Analysls  ol         ,  '^  . 

a  Cycle  oi     ccivcd,  let  US  sav  a  bear.  This  calls  out 

Peeling.  '.  *^  .  ,  , 

a  certain  type  of  reaction.  If  it  results 
in  a  satisfactory  adjustment,  there  may  be  no 


FEELING  143 

consciousness  or  only  a  minimal  amount.  If, 
however,  the  responses  called  forth  by  this  act 
of  perception  fail  immediately  to  adapt  the  or- 
ganism in  the  new  situation,  these  propulsive 
tendencies  are  checked  and  thrown  back  into 
the  organism  resulting  in  the  tension  of  the 
emotional  seizure.  Further  inhibition  of  the  im- 
pulsive outburst  which  this  instigates  results  in 
a  deepening  of  the  emotion  unless  control  from 
the  higher  centres  comes  in  and  transforms  it 
into  a  cognitive  consciousness.  In  any  case  the 
emotion  ceases  only  if  opportunity  is  provided 
for  the  adequate  irradiation  of  these  summated 
energies. 

This  analysis,  on  first  inspection,  might  seem 
to  support  the  central  theory  which  makes 
feeling  dependent  upon  an  initial  act  Automatic 
of  conscious  perception  of  the  danger.  ^""i'"°°- 
But  it  should  be  pointed  out  that  in  the  theory 
here  set  forth  this  initial  act  of  cosfnition  is  not 
a  conscious  act  of  perception:  it  is  instinctive 
or  auk)matic.  This  difference  is  a  crucial  one 
for  the  theory.  Perception  does  come  first,  as  the 
central  theory  maintains,  but  only  as  an  atti- 
tude, not  as  a  deliberate  and  conscious  process. 
If  this  initial  perception  were  reflective  in  char- 
acter,  the    emotional   disturbance   would    not 


144         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

take  place  :  it  is  just  the  blind  total  character  of 
the  perception,  with  the  vague  consciousness  of 
inadequacy  to  meet  the  situation,  that  calls  forth 
this  tumultuous  turmoil  of  emotion.  In  most  in- 
stances the  emotional  seizure  clearly  antedates 
the  clear  and  definite  apprehension  of  the  pre- 
cise character  of  the  stimulus.  There  is  aware- 
ness of  a  fearsome  object,  a  possible  source  of 
danger,  but  this  is  instantly  swamped  in  the 
uprush  of  instinctive  response  which  nature  has 
provided  for  dealing  with  such  situations.  One 
is  often  amazed  at  the  animal  ferocity  with  which 
these  inherited  traits  will  assert  themselves  at 
times,  in  reaction  to  some  trifling  stimulus, 
whose  real  significance  is  apprehended  only 
after  the  emotional  storm  has  blown  over.  The 
conscious  reflective  sizing  up  of  the  situation  de- 
velops within  this  state  of  agitation  only  as  a 
gradual  control  is  set  up  by  the  inhibitory  in- 
fluence of  later  acquired  habits  on  these  inher- 
ited instincts.  Thought  is  essentially  the  prin- 
ciple of  order  and  organization  by  which  the 
relative  chaos  and  confusion  of  feeling  is  trans- 
formed into  a  higher  type  of  experience. 

Feeling  is  the  simplest  mode  of  consciousness 
because  it  is  the  least  mediated :  it  is  vague, 
total,  and    uncontrolled.    It  is  the   first   form 


FEELING  145 

which  instinctive  acts  take  when  they  are 
brought  to  consciousness  in  the  impul-  j.^^^^  ^^ 
sive  emotional  outburst.  If  voHtion  re-  ^v^^^- 
presents  the  culmination  of  consciousness  as  it 
passes  over  into  the  habitual  act,  impulse  may 
be  taken  as  representing  the  emergence  of  con- 
sciousness at  the  point  where  instinctive  reactions 
come  into  conflict.  Who  has  not  been  the  victim 
of  stage-fright,  or  lost  his  self-possession  in  the 
presence  of  one  whose  good  opinion  he  was 
particularly  desirous  of  winning?  That  clutch 
at  the  diaphragm  which  made  you  gasp  for 
breath  when  you  tried  to  speak,  and  that  loss 
of  motor-control  which  made  your  movements 
random  and  awkward  —  these  were  simply  the 
siffHS  of  that  emotional  disturbance  which  in  a 
less  obvious  way  implicated  your  entire  organ- 
ism. When  we  become  conscious  in  this  way 
of  some  activity  which  we  have  hitherto  per- 
formed unconsciously,  we  feel  rather  that  it 
possesses  us  than  we  it.  This  is  the  character- 
istic of  all  feelinor  before  it  has  been  brouo^ht 
under  the  direction  of  the  intellect.  It  domi- 
nates consciousness.  It  rules  us  instead  of  our 
being  masters  of  it.  This  explains  the  subjective 
and  personal  character  of  the  feelings  :  we  may 
endure  a  challenge  of  our  ideas  but  not  a  thrust 


146         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

at  our  emotions.  These  are  too  much  a  part  of 
ourselves,  which  means,  strictly  speaking,  that 
they  are  not  under  our  control  as  are  our 
thoughts. 

But  when  we  describe  feeling  as  the  primi- 
tive mode  of  consciousness,  this  must  not  be 
Feeling  and  Understood  in  a  sense  which  excludes 
Cognition,  all  cognition.  That  the  earliest  mani- 
festations of  consciousness  were  cognitive  as  well 
as  affective  in  character  is  clear  from  the  fact 
that  they  are  always  expressions  of  attempted 
adjustments  of  the  organism.  Why  should  the 
feeling  of  pain  or  of  pleasure  ever  have  arisen, 
if  it  did  not  serve  some  useful  purpose  for  the 
survival  of  the  animal?  And  of  what  service 
would  pain  be  as  a  monitor  unless  the  response 
of  the  organism  involved  some  perception  of 
the  situation?  A  feeling  of  mere  pain  would 
be  of  no  value  unless  it  stimulated  some  adap- 
tation, and  when  this  takes  place  we  have  all 
the  essentials  of  the  cognitive  faculty,  involving 
the  projection  of  purposes  or  ends  and  the  in- 
trojection  of  means  to  those  ends.  Of  course, 
among  lower  orders  of  organisms  these  ends 
will  be  projected  in  a  vague  and  relatively  un- 
controlled way.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  we 
characterize  such  a  consciousness  as  predomi- 


FEELING  147 

nan tly  affective  and  impulsive,  as  contrasted  with 
the  rational  and  reflective  emotional  life  of  man. 
And  since  the  primary  problems  are  those  of 
food,  shelter,  mates,  and  the  like,  the  earliest 
thinking  is  directed  chiefly  toward  the  external 
world.  Emphasis  upon  the  self  in  consciousness 
comes  only  with  reflective  or  discursive  thought 
and  with  the  development  of  a  high  type  of 
social  organization. 

A  genetic  classification  of  the  emotions  ex- 
presses this  fundamental  significance  of  pain 
and   pleasure  for  the  preservation  of 

.  .     .  Classlflca- 

the  organism.  The  egoistic  and  altru-  tionoithe 

•    ...  1         IP         •  1       re         •  Emotions. 

istic,  the  deiensive  and  onensive  emo- 
tions developed  together.  The  sensuous  and  the 
ideal  pains  and  pleasures  cannot  be  separated. 
The  natural  line  of  cleavage  is  that  expressed 
by  the  evolution  of  animal  intelligence  itself, 
in  which  pain  is  the  sign  of  failure  and  pleasure 
the  consciousness  of  success.  Hun2:er  and  sex 
represent  the  two  elementary  problems  of  or- 
ganic life,  nutrition  and  reproduction,  and  these 
are  the  centres  about  which  consciousness  first 
developed.  Pain  of  failure,  of  disadaptation  and 
maladjustment ;  pleasure  as  relief  from  pain  and 
the  mark  of  adequacy  in  coordination  —  these 
are  the  rudimentary  lines  along  which  the  emo- 


148         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

tional  life  differentiated.  Fear  as  anticipatory 
pain  and  hope  as  anticipatory  pleasure,  anger  as 
anticipatory  combat  and  love  as  anticipatory  em- 
brace— these  are  the  first  vicarious  substitutes 
of  mental  images  for  immediate  contacts.  Out 
of  the  primal  feelings  of  shock  or  break  in  the 
coordination  (which  we  still  retain  in  surprise, 
wonder,  awe),  and  the  feelings  of  struggle  which 
arise  from  the  attempt  to  readjust  the  situation 
(which  we  retain  in  the  feelings  of  excitement, 
strain,  effort),  there  developed  the  definite  feel- 
ings of  pain  and  pleasure  connected  with  the 
consciousness  of  failure  or  success.  These,  as 
Professor  Dewey  has  suggested,  may  then  be 
further  divided  into  feelings  of  failure  in  present 
adjustment,  in  past  and  in  future  adjustment. 
Feelings  of  failure  in  present  adjustment  on  the 
bodily  or  sensuous  side  are  found  in  fatigue, 
impotence,  lassitude;  on  the  ideal  side,  in  grief, 
shame,  etc.  Feelings  of  failure  with  relation  to 
past  adjustment  are  exemplified  in  rankling,  re- 
gret, remorse.  Feelings  of  failure  with  refer- 
ence to  future  adjustment  are  seen  in  fear, 
anger,  hate.  Similarly  with  the  success  feelings. 
Feelings  of  success  in  present  adjustment  are 
seen,  on  the  bodily  side,  in  buoyancy,  the  sense 
of  power,  vigor;  on  the  ideal  side,  in  joy,  pride. 


FEELING  149 

etc.  Feelings  of  success  in  relation  to  past 
adjustment  are  found  in  relief,  gratitude. 
Feelings  of  success  in  relation  to  future  ad- 
justment are  exemplified  in  hope,  sympathy, 
love. 

Our  thinking  is  largely  determined  by  our 
feeling  as,  of  course,  our  feeling  is  in  turn  by 
our  thinking.  But  the  influence  of  peeungand 
feeling  on  thought  is  primary,  since  ^^«"st. 
thought  is  originally  instigated  by  emotion.  We 
perceive  and  perform  what  we  are  interested  in. 
This  is  not  to  say  that  feeling  is  the  cause  of 
our  thought  and  conduct,  but  it  represents  the 
first  stage  of  activity  as  conscious.  Every  con- 
scious act  undero^oes  mediation  in  feelino"  and 
thought.  The  perception  of  a  stone  in  the  street 
is  ordinarily  unemotional  and  impersonal.  The 
sight  of  a  friend  arouses  an  emotional  response. 
But,  except  for  some  interest,  even  the  stone 
could  not  become  an  object  of  perception.  The 
difference  between  the  two  experiences  is  that, 
in  the  case  of  the  stone,  the  interest  has  been 
organized  into  the  system  of  the  habits  of  the 
individual,  while  in  the  case  of  seeing  a  friend 
this  process  is  not  so  complete.  But  whether  it 
be  the  stone  or  the  friend,  every  shift  of  atten- 
tion and  every  cognitive  adaptation  is  relative  to 


150         PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 

some  need,  or  to  a  want  "which  finds  expression 
in  emotional  terms. 

Feehng,  we  have  said,  is  the  bearer  of  the 
value-consciousness.  Its  chief  characteristic  is 
Value  and  i^s  immediacy  and  its  integi^ity.  But 
Meaning,  emotiou  is  Valuable  not  only  for  its  own 
sake,  but  because  it  leads  to  thought  and  action. 
Too  much  feeling  obstructs  thought  and  leads 
to  impulsive  instead  of  reflective  action.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  more  feeling  the  better,  if 
it  is  under  control.  All  great  men  are  gifted 
with  strong  passions  and  immense  emotional 
resources.  It  is  not  intensity  of  feeling  in  itself 
that  we  respect,  however,  but  this  passion  and 
emotion  in  the  service  of  high  ideals.  The  feel- 
ings, hke  the  appetites,  are  good  —  when  har- 
nessed. An  emotional  reaction  is  a  total  reac- 
tion :  cognition  implies  discriminative  analysis. 
One's  first  response  to  a  new  situation  is  apt  to 
be  indeterminate  in  character,  an  awareness  in 
terms  of  the  vague  organic  and  tactile-kinaes- 
thetic  sensations  rather  than  in  terms  of  the 
more  accurate  imagery  of  the  higher  senses. 
Feeling  is  distinguished  from  knowledge  by  just 
the  difference  between  this  unlocalized  and  un- 
analyzed  complex  of  organic  sensations  and  the 
clear  and  definite  pictures  of  our  auditory  and 


FEELING  151 

visual  consciousness.  The  organic,  tactile,  kin- 
Eesthetic,  temperature,  taste,  and  smell  sensations 
*  stand  nearest  to  the  life  of  feelinof.  Hearing:  and 
sight,  which  are  least  emotional,  have  the  greatest 
cognitive  significance  because  of  their  accuracy 
of  detail  in  verbal  distinctions.  Feeling,  in  a 
■word,  is  the  vague  appreciation  of  the  value  of 
a  situation,  while  cognition  is  a  clear  and  dis- 
tinct perception  of  its  meaning. 


CHAPTER  V 

THINKING 

We  have  said  that  thinking  is  introducing 
order  and  control  into  experience.  But  "why 
ThongMis  should  we  dcsire  order  and  control? 
Sg  SrsT-  ^^^y  i^ot  always  rely  on  the  more  im- 
perience.  mediate  modes  of  experience  such  as 
instinct?  Because  these  often  fail  us  at  the 
critical  moment,  when  they  are  most  needed. 
Thinking  comes  in  because  it  is  more  successful ; 
it  is  a  more  economical  and  expeditious  way  of 
attaining  our  ends  than  blind  instinct  or  vague 
feeling.  Instinct  and  habit  are  useful,  even  in- 
dispensable, where  the  conditions  are  uniform ; 
feeling  is  important  as  a  monitor  ;  but  thinking 
is  necessary  for  coordinations  which  involve 
adjustment  to  variable  conditions.  A  cat  may 
learn  to  open  a  door  by  accidental  fumbling. 
But  no  cat,  as  Professor  James  says,  "  if  the  latch 
got  out  of  order,  could  open  the  door  again, 
unless  some  new  accident  at  random  f umblinof 
taught  her  to  associate  some  new  total  movement 
with  the  total  j^henomenon  of  the  closed  door." 


THINKING  153 

§   16.   THINKING  IN   RELATION  TO  ACTION 

Thinking  arises  primarily  because  of  some 
obstructed  activity.  It  is  the  mediation  or  the 
attempt  to  mediate  an  interrupted  act. 
It  has  been  called  repressed  action.  (i)Recon- 
Bain  said  that  thinking  is  refraining  of  past 

n  1  •  ,•  TT-  Action; 

irom  speaking  or  acting.  Hirn  says 
that  the  idea  of  a  movement  is  associated  with 
an  arrested  impulse  to  perform  it.  We  say  we 
"  stop  to  think,"  but  that  is  tautology;  the  think- 
ing is  the  stopping,  the  refraining  from  overt 
action.  The  inhibition  of  the  impulse  throws 
it  back  into  the  organism  and  develops  that  in- 
ternal tension  known  as  the  idea.  An  idea  is 
thus  a  delayed  or  postponed  response.  Thought 
is  never  its  own  motivation,  but  goes  back  to 
action  for  its  instigation.  It  arises  at  the  point 
of  some  break  in  the  activity  —  this  break  pre- 
senting a  certain  diifficulty  to  be  overcome. 
There  is  never,  of  course,  a  complete  breakdown, 
but  the  adaptation  fails,  or  is  inadequate,  to  such 
an  extent  as  to  bring  the  process  of  adaptation 
itself  to  consciousness,  attention  and  thought 
coming  in  to  heal  the  breach.  In  this  aspect 
thought  is  reflective,  retrospective.  Thinking  is 
the  method  of  action  coming  to  consciousness, 


154         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

for  the  sake  of  revision  in  the  light  of  new 
conditions.  The  value  of  a  trained  mind  consists 
in  the  fact  that  such  a  person  has  built  up  hab- 
its of  reflective  analysis  and  balancing  of  mo- 
tor tendencies.  And  the  value  of  all  tools  and 
instruments  of  precision  lies  in  the  fact  that  they 
are  the  objectification  of  such  habits.  This  is 
the  significance  of  libraries,  museums,  labora- 
tories, and  all  the  machinery  of  civilization  and 
culture :  they  perpetuate  for  us  the  intellectual 
devices  which  have  been  worked  out  by  our 
predecessors.  All  the  thinking  which  goes  on 
in  the  consciousness  of  individuals  is  dependent 
upon  knowledge  which  is  thus  socially  preserved 
in  available  forms.  And  this  coming  to  con- 
sciousness of  the  technique  of  past  action  is  the 
necessary  condition  of  advance  in  knowledge. 

Thinking  is  not  only  a  statement  of  the 
method  of  past  action  :  it  is  anticipation  of  fu- 
(2)  Antici-  t^^®  action.  Creative  thought  is  always 
^^^g°*  in  advance  of  production  :  witness  the 
Action;  hypothesis  and  theory  of  the  man  of 
science.  It  is  true  that  we  are  driven  from  be- 
hind by  our  instincts  and  impulses,  but  it  is  also 
true  that  we  are  lured  on  by  our  ideas  and  ideals. 
Instinct  outlines  the  main  channels  of  our  ac- 
tivity, but  reason  works  out  the  means  and  meth- 


THINKING  155 

ods  in  detail,  and  thereby  reconstitutes  the  ends 
originally  suggested  by  instinct.  Reflection  is 
always  accompanied  by  prospection,  memory  by 
expectation,  deliberation  by  investigation.  We 
reflect  on  our  past  experience,  but  we  also  pro- 
spect, plan  for  the  future.  Thinking  is  dynamo- 
genie  and  teleological :  theory  is  for  the  sake 
of  practice.  As  feeling  becomes  motivation,  so 
thinkins:  becomes  instrumental  to  action.  It  not 
only  grows  out  of  the  needs  of  action  but  points 
forward  to  the  resumption  of  the  activity  in  a 
more  adequate  form.  Thinking  as  well  as  feeling 
has  the  conative  or  will  element  in  it.  The 
thinking  of  a  thing  is  really  the  first  step  in  the 
doing  of  it. 

But  thinking  not  only  follows  action  when  it 
is  breaking  down,  stating  past  method;  it  not 
only  precedes  action  which  is  building 
up,    suggesting    future    method,    but  tionoipre- 

.i-i'  •  ,•  .        •,       ,  p  sent  Action. 

thinking  is  action  in  its  transrorma- 
tion  phase.  Thought  is  not  something  abso- 
lutely different  from  action  :  it  is  the  activity  in 
a  different  form.  It  is  central  and  subtle  rather 
than  peripheral  and  overt ;  or,  to  be  more  accu- 
rate, it  involves  the  organic  circuits  of  the  finer 
musculatures  rather  than  those  of  the  grosser 
fundamental  muscles  by  which  so-called  overt 


156         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

acts  are  performed.  Thinking  is  inhibited,  in- 
cipient, nascent  action  —  action  in  the  potential 
phase,  as  it  were,  but  none  the  less  truly  action ; 
just  as  the  energy  of  inertia  is  a  very  real  kind 
of  energy.  Just  as  a  body  at  rest  really  repre- 
sents an  interplay  of  forces,  so  thinking  may  be 
regarded  as  a  balancing  of  motor  tendencies,  a 
tension  of  conflicting  modes  of  response.  We 
are  first  of  all  active  doing  beings,  and  whatever 
we  are  in  the  way  of  emotional  and  intellectual 
beings  must,  if  we  go  far  enough  back,  grow  out 
of  and  be  related  to  this  fact,  that,  first  of  all,  we 
are  instincts  and  impulses  to  do,  to  act,  to  ma- 
nipulate, to  modify  and  adapt  the  conditions  in 
which  we  find  ourselves.  Consciousness  is  a  sort 
of  vicarious  conduct.  Through  memory  and 
imagination  we  picture  past  and  future  deeds, 
and  act  in  the  absence  of  the  object  or  event  as 
we  might  if  it  were  here  now. 

§   17.   THOUGHT  AS  THE  MEDIATION  OF  EXPERIENCE 

Thinking  is  man's  method  of  managing  his 
Thinking  la  experience.  It  is  the  attempt  to  do 
Method  oi  coiisciously  what  it  has  been  found  im- 
hirEipefi-  possible  to  do  unconsciously  by  instinct 
®°''°*  or  habit.  If  Hfe  is  to  go  on,  we  must 

meet  the  new  conditions  of  an  everchanging 


THINKING  157 

situation.  This  may  be  regarded  as  a  reconstruc- 
tion of  the  old  experience  or  as  the  construction 
of  a  new  one.  But  reconstruction  is  the  key 
to  the  process,  since  it  is  the  old  instincts  and 
habits  made  over  which  constitute  the  core  of 
the  new  experience.  A  certain  part  of  the  whole 
is  set  up  as  an  ideal  end  to  be  reached,  another 
part  is  regarded  as  the  instrument  or  means  by 
which  to  reach  it :  these  come  into  opposition 
and  interaction  in  a  process  of  mediation,  and 
a  new  coordination  is  the  outcome.  As  long 
as  a  person's  experience  flows  on  smoothly,  he 
does  not  put  it  in  the  form  of  a  judgment  be- 
cause he  has  no  obstacles  to  overcome  and  hence 
no  problems  to  solve.  We  do  not  think  except 
in  relation  to  some  new  organization  or  reor- 
g-anization  of  our  environment.  But  when  the 
present  action  ceases  to  be  harmonious,  we  begin 
to  look  backwards  and  forwards.  Experience 
polarizes  into  ends  and  means.  As  these  in- 
teract and  grow  together  in  and  through  the 
thinking  or  judging  process,  a  new  experience 
emersres  in  which  means  and  ends  are  reunified 
on  a  different  level.  Thought  or  judgment  is  the 
conscious  transition  from  one  experience  to  an- 
other. 

Thinking  is  a  doubt-inquiry  process  which 


158         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

arises  in  connection  with  the  attempt  to  solve  a 
itisa  problem.  Experience  becomes  problem- 
toquiiTr  atic  when  there  is  some  relative  failure 
Process.  jjj  adjustment;  and  this  means  that 
some  instinct  or  habit  is  proving  inadequate,  so 
that  we  come  to  doubt  its  further  utility  in  its 
present  form.  The  process  of  reconstruction, 
on  the  other  hand,  means  that  we  are  seeking 
a  new  coordination  or  a  modification  of  some  old 
habit  which  will  serve  to  repair  the  break.  Think- 
ing thus  presents  two  aspects,  according  as  it 
involves  a  doubt  of  existing  modes  or  the  search 
for  a  new  and  better  mode  of  adjustment. 

As  we  have  seen,  there  is  never  a  complete 
failure.  Failure  and  success  are  relative  matters. 
The  Con-  -^  child  Carrying  a  plate  of  soup,  from 
of  Fafu^?  ^^1^  point  of  view  of  the  adult  may  be 
cmerion  of  f^-iling  miserably  in  the  attempt,  while 
Success.  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  progres- 
sive development  of  motor-control  on  the  child's 
part,  his  seeming  failure  is  a  real  success.  By 
failure  is  meant  failure  relative  to  the  situation. 
The  significance  of  failure,  from  this  point  of 
view,  is  that  it  presents  a  difficulty  to  be  dealt 
with,  and  in  so  far  as  there  is  seen  to  be  a  way 
out  of  the  difficulty,  a  problem  to  be  solved.  In 
this  sense,  failure  is  one  of  the  conditions  of 


THINKING  159 

success.  The  only  real  failure  is  not  to  be  con- 
scious of  having  failed.  The  sense  of  having 
failed,  like  the  consciousness  of  ignorance,  means 
stimulus  to  new  endeavor  ;  something  has  proved 
inadequate  and  we  seek  something  better.  It 
means  doing  better  next  time.  One  says  that 
he  has  failed  in  doing  a  thing  only  when  he  has 
the  conception  of  a  superior  way  of  doing  it. 
The  consciousness  of  failure  implies  a  criterion 
of  success.  What  is  done  is  judged  inadequate 
only  in  the  light  of  an  ideal  of  what  ought  to 
he  done.  "  The  sense  of  failure  is  the  spur  that 
rides  a  good  horse  to  success." 

On  the  positive  side  thinking  means  inquiry. 
Every  judgment  begins  by  asking  a  question. 
It  takes  the  form  of  a  problem.  Aprob-  Donutistho 
lem  is  a  situation  in  which  we  are  not  f^ff/®^ 

In  Activa 

just  sure  what  we  do  mean  or  what  the  ^i^^^- 
situation  really  is.  This  uncertainty  gives  birth 
to  ideas  or  hypotheses  which  may  be  regarded 
as  tentative  views  of  the  facts,  ideal  experimen- 
tation with  the  conditions  of  the  situation.  Sup- 
pose I  see  a  gold  coin  on  the  floor  of  my  library. 
Under  one  set  of  conditions,  I  say  :  "  Oh  yes, 
I  forgot  to  put  that  in  my  pocket  after  twirling 
it  to  amuse  the  baby."  Here  the  inquiry  element 
is  at  the  minimum  :  it  is  just  a  categorical  judg- 


160         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

ment  of  fact.  The  seeing  of  the  coin  passes  over 
immediately  into  the  act  of  putting  it  into  my 
pocket.  But  suppose  I  have  not  left  it  there 
myself.  The  sight  of  it  immediately  suggests 
some  hypothesis,  or  several,  according  to  the 
richness  of  my  imagery  and  the  rarity  of  such 
events  in  my  experience.  I  recall  now  that  I  had 
seen  the  child  playing  with  something  of  the 
kind.  But  who  could  have  given  it  to  him  and 
why  was  it  not  reclaimed  ?  The  nurse  at  this 
moment  comes  into  the  room,  and  I  learn  from 
her  that  she  let  the  child  have  it.  Immediately 
I  am  satisfied.  The  problem  is  solved  and  the 
hypothetical  gives  place  again  to  a  categorical 
judgment.  But  suppose  I  find  that  no  one  in 
the  house  can  account  for  the  coin  in  any  way. 
Furthermore,  suppose  the  days  and  weeks  pass 
and  no  explanation  is  forthcoming.  I  may  not 
keep  thinking  about  the  matter  all  that  time,  but 
the  interrogatory  attitude  becomes  now  a  per- 
manent state,  and  my  thinking  is  hung  up  in  the 
form  of  a  suspended  judgment  concerning  the 
mystery. 

This  refl^ective  or  deliberative  attitude  is  the 
very  essence  of  the  knowledge-process.  Judg- 
ment arises  out  of  a  conflict  of  facts  and  ideas 
of  possible  solutions.    Science  has  vitality,  and 


THINKING  161 

is  productive  just  to  the  extent  that  it  is  fertile 
in  hypotheses  for  solving  problems,  judgment, 
This  tensional  hypothecating  attitude  S^SpeS 
continues  until  some  provisional  hypo-  °^®^*' 
thesis  is  hit  upon  which  seems  more  promising 
than  the  rest.  This  becomes  the  basis  of  experi- 
mentation, and  is  then  called  the  working  hy- 
pothesis. The  working  hypothesis  is  the  first 
child  to  which  the  judgment  gives  birth  in  its 
travail  for  a  solution.  Judgment,  hypothesis, 
and  experiment,  —  these  are  the  tools  by  which 
science  undertakes  the  reconstruction  of  experi- 
ence. 

§  18.  THE  FUNCTION  OF  SENSATION  IN  KNOWLEDGE 

Since  the  time  of  Kant  it  has  been  recog- 
nized that  sense  and  thought  are  not  separate 
faculties  of  the  mind  but  complemen-  sense  ana 
tary  phases  of  the  thinking  process.  ''^^°^^'^^- 
Yet  their  organic  and  functional  character  even 
now  is  not  fully  appreciated.  This  is  due  to  the 
fact  that  the  true  relation  between  thouo-ht  and 
action  has  not  been  understood.  But  with  the 
advance  of  genetic  and  functional  psychology 
we  have  come  to  see  that  the  differentiation  of 
the  sense-qualities  takes  place  in  and  through 
the  differentiation  of  the  response.  Why  does 


162         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

the  group  of  colors  stand  out  distinctly  to  me 
as  a  rug  on  the  floor,  while  to  the  baby  it  is  at 
most  only  a  confused  patch  of  color,  a  big, 
blooming  buzz  of  confusion  ?  Because  I  react 
to  it  in  a  different  way.  Optical  motor-habits, 
built  up  through  long  training  and  repeated 
contact  with  such  stimuli,  enable  me  to  inter- 
pret them  in  definite  and  significant  ways.  The 
response  helps  to  select  the  stimulus. 

Yet  sensation  occupies  an  ambiguous  place  iij 
the  current  theory  of  knowledge.  It  is  still  the 
Sensation  assumption  of  most  of  our  psychology 
!°Know"*  ^^^*  sensation  in  some  way  stands 
ledge.  closer  to  the  objective  reality  of  things 

than  does  any  other  part  of  knowledge.  While 
ideas  are  said  to  be  wholly  mental,  sensations 
are  regarded  as  half  in  and  half  outside  of  the 
mind.  This  error  crops  up  in  the  doctrine  of  the 
relation  of  ideas  to  things,  in  the  representative 
theory  of  knowledge,  which  holds  that  the  test  of 
the  truth  of  ideas  is  whether  they  correspond  to 
the  objects  of  which  they  are  the  ideas.  It  is  the 
old  fallacy  of  opposing  the  What  and  the  How, 
the  Content  and  the  Process,  Reality  and  Ex- 
perience. We  divorce  the  having  of  an  experi- 
ence from  the  content  of  the  experience.  There 
is  a  difference  between  experience  as  a  house 


THINKING  163 

and  the  experience  of  a  house  :  the  one  is  called 
sensation  and  the  other  idea  or  image.  But  sen- 
sations lead  beyond  experience  no  more  than 
ideas.  Sensation  and  image  are  merely  functional 
phases  o£  that  intellectual  reconstruction  of  ex- 
perience which  we  call  knowledge. 

A  theory  of  knowledge  which  conceives  of 
sensation  as  the  avenue  by  which  an  outside 
reality  gets   into  consciousness  must 

.  .  .      But  a  Factor 

face  the  following  difficulty.  If,  as  is  in  Know- 
often  the  case,  the  sensational  experi- 
ence in  no  way  resembles  the  external  reality 
which  it  reports,  how  can  we  know  when  our 
perception  is  valid  or  true  ?  Sensations  of  red 
do  not  resemble  the  vibrations  of  the  ether 
which  are  their  external  condition.  How  do  I 
get  a  single  upright  visual  picture  of  a  house, 
when  the  retinal  image  is  inverted,  transposed, 
and  duplicated  ?  There  is  no  adequate  answer 
to  such  questions  on  a  representative  theory  of 
knowledge.  Sensation  is  not  something  given 
from  without.  Nor  is  it  the  avenue  or  medium 
by  which  the  material  of  knowledge  is  supplied. 
It  itself  is  the  material.  It  is  not  a  source  of 
knowledge,  but  a  factor  in  knowledge.  Sensa- 
tion is  the  statement  of  the  conditions  or  facts 
in    the   problematic   situation,  as   idea  is  the 


164         PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 

statement  of  the  method  of  interpretation  or 
solution. 

In  order  to  understand  the  true  function  of 

sensation  in  knowledge,  we  must  begin  with  the 

concrete  situation  or  experience  before 

Illustration  ... 

ottaeRea     any   distinctions  have  been   made.  I 

Book.  *' 

have  before  me  a  red-covered  book. 
How  do  I  get  this  sensation  of  red?  "  Why, 
from  the  red  book;  the  redness  is  in  the  book." 
This  is  the  ordinary  explanation  given  by  naive 
common  sense.  "  But  no,  the  redness  is  a  sub- 
jective quality,"  says  the  man  of  science.  "  Only 
primary  qualities,  such  as  extension  and  solidity, 
are  objective  and  external.  The  reality  of  the 
red  book  is  so  many  vibrations  of  the  ether  per 
second;  the  redness  is  in  you."  But  a  still  more 
sophisticated  philosophico-scientific  analysis  has 
shown  that  if  any  of  the  qualities  or  attributes 
of  an  object  are  subjective  they  all  must  be. 
Either  color,  sound,  odor,  taste,  and  temperature 
are  equally  objective  with  extension,  solidity, 
size,  shape,  or  they  are  all  equally  subjective, 
since  there  is  no  warrant  for  exempting  the 
tactile-kinsesthetic  sensations  in  the  idealistic 
argument.  The  only  way  out  of  this  dilemma  is 
to  go  back  to  the  concrete  experience,  seeing-a- 
red-book.  We  must  start  over  again,  beginning 


THINKING  165 

with  the  whole  within  which  the  distinctions 
are  set  up  between  seer  or  subject,  redness,  and 
object  or  book.  Making  this  new  start,  we  dis- 
cover that  the  reality  of  the  book  is  as  much  in 
the  redness  as  in  the  vibrations,  and  that  the 
reality  of  myself  includes  my  relation  to  the 
book.  Knowledge  is  not  a  process  of  represent- 
ing or  referring  to  a  reality  beyond  the  act  of 
knowledge :  it  is  a  process  going  on  within  the 
object.  Knowledge  is  the  totality  of  the  object 
or  situation  undergoing  reconstruction.  It  is 
the  internal  metamorphosis  of  the  reality  itself. 
This  is  the  pragmatic  or  functional  theory  of 
knowledg-e. 

Let  us  analyze  the  famous  child-candle  situ- 
ation, made  classic  in  the  writings  of  the  psy- 
chologists. The  stimulus,  the  idea,  and  ninstration 
the  act,  as  Professor  Dewey  points  out,  J5i?«i2^"* 
are  not  three  distinct  things,  but  parts  °^*^®- 
of  one  organic  circuit.  It  is  not  that  the  stimulus 
and  the  act  are  physical  and  the  intermediate 
idea  mental:  they  are  all  functional  phases  of 
one  identical  situation.  The  situation  in  this 
instance  is  the  total  coordination  involved  in 
child-seeing-and-reacting-to-candle.  The  seeing 
is  not  mere  seeing^  but  seeing'-for-reachinir- 
purposes,  or   seeing-of-a-light-that-means-pain- 


166         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

if -touched.  The  response  is  not  a  mere  respond- 
ing in  general,  but  responding-to-light-by-touch- 
ing,  or  responding-not-by-touching-but-by-with- 
drawing-the-hand.  The  distinction  between  the 
stimulus  and  the  response  and  the  corresponding 
sensation  and  image  arises  when  there  is  un- 
certainty, hesitancy,  obstruction,  resistance,  ten- 
sion in  the  coordination.  The  stimulus  is  not  a 
sensation  as  long  as  it  stimulates.  It  becomes 
sensation  when  it  fails  to  stimulate.  Sensation 
marks  the  failure  in  the  coordination.  It  shows 
experience  in  cross-section  at  the  break  where 
the  disadaptation  or  maladjustment  has  oc- 
curred, as  geological  strata  are  turned  up  at  the 
fault-scarp.  The  whole  psychology  of  sensation 
and  volition  is  a  discussion  of  the  break  and  of 
the  healing  of  the  break. 

Looked  at  negatively,  sensation  presents  the 

whole  experience  in  the  act  of  breaking  down, 

while  from  the  positive  side  it  furnishes 

Sensation  ,  . 

and  the  basis  for  readiustment.    Thinking: 

Stlmulns.       .  IP-  •  • 

IS  a  mode  of  experience  in  which  the 
reality  or  activity  which  constitutes  its  content 
is  undergoing  reconstruction  at  the  point  of 
some  specific  need.  It  begins  with  the  conflict 
of  opposing  aspects  and  consists  of  the  attempt 
at  reorganization  by  the  mutual  interaction  of 


THINKING  167 

these  factors.  Stated  objectively  in  physiologi- 
cal terms,  these  factors  are  known  as  stimulus 
and  response.  But  when  these  do  not  function 
as  such,  they  come  to  consciousness,  when,  in 
psychological  language,  they  are  known  as  sen- 
sation and  image.  Delayed  or  obstructed  coor- 
dination is  the  occasion  at  once  of  the  statement 
of  the  problem  in  sensational  terms  and  of  the 
formulation  of  a  solution  in  terms  of  the  image 
or  idea. 

§  19.    THE   FUNCTION   OF  IDEAS   IN  KNOWLEDGE 

The  image  or  idea  in  human  consciousness  is 
the  chief  instrument  of  the  reconstruc- 

.  ,  An  Idea  Is 

tion  of  experience,  since  man,  unHke  » Nascent 
the  lower  animals,  has  an  elaborate  sys- 
tem of  verbal  symbols  by  which  he  is  able  to 
manage  the  transitions  of  his  life  without  re- 
sorting directly  to  the  cruder  materials  of  sense. 
We  employ  an  image  when  a  habit  breaks  down. 
When  I  try  to  puzzle  out  the  hidden  figure  in 
a  picture-card,  or  to  guess  a  conundrum,  innu- 
merable images  flit  before  my  mind.  This 
means  that  pre\4ously  subconscious  tendencies 
come  into  internal  conflict,  and,  according  to  the 
degree  and  relevancy  of  the  tension  and  their 
ideomotor  force,  emerge  before  the  footlights 


168         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

of  consciousness  as  images.  The  searching 
around  for  a  key  to  the  puzzle  is  really  a  struggle 
between  conflicting  habits,  represented  by  nas- 
cent innervations  in  the  muscles. 

Professor  Baldwin  has  called  attention  to  the 

dynamogenic  aspect  of  all  consciousness.   All 

feeling's  and  ideas  tend  to  pass  over 

AnlnWl)-       .  ^  .  .  .... 

ited  Re-  into  acts.  An  image  is  an  inhibited  re- 
sponse, A        •  1         •  •  11' 

sponse.  An  idea  is  a  conscious  nabit, 
a  previously  unconscious  response  undergoing 
modification  in  thought.  Animals  have  devel- 
oped ways  of  doing  things,  but  they  are  not 
conscious  methods.  Man  has  an  elaborate  ver- 
bal technique  by  which  he  is  able  to  control  the 
mediation  of  his  experience  by  all  sorts  of  in- 
directions and  vicarious  substitutions.  An  idea 
is  always  an  intermediary.  It  stands  between 
the  old  and  the  new  coordination.  This  medi- 
ating function  arises  from  the  fact  that,  while 
the  image  is  the  product  of  a  checked  response, 
this  is  only  a  partial  inhibition.  The  old  ac- 
tivity is  continuous  with  the  new  in  and 
through  this  image,  which  simply  represents  the 
habit  seeking  some  more  adequate  mode  of  re- 
sponse. As  sensation  is  the  stimulus  coming  to 
consciousness  when  and  where  it  fails  to  stimu- 
late, so   the  image   is  the  response  or   habit 


THINKING  169 

coming  to    consciousness  when   it  fails  to  re- 
spond. 

A  person  is  approaching.  "What  is  his  name  ? 
Where  have  I  met  him  ?  Ah,  I  recall,  at  the 
seaside  summer  resort.  This  gives  the  ^  vicarioM 
key  to^'the  whole  situation.  Why  ?  Be-  suDsutute. 
cause  it  gives  the  connecting  link.  The  image 
is  the  handle  by  which  we  get  hold  of  a  past 
experience  and  use  it  in  determining  a  present 
or  a  future  one.  If  every  experience  were  wiped 
out  as  soon  as  it  occurred,  without  leaving  any 
trace,  we  could  not  grow  in  knowledge.  The 
image  is  a  bridge  by  which  we  pass  over  from 
one  situation  to  another.  It  is  throuo-h  the 
image  that  all  transition  and  reconstruction 
takes  place.  The  power  to  form  an  image  means 
the  ability  to  think  one  situation  in  terms  of 
another :  it  is  a  kind  of  vicarious  substitute  for 
the  fullness  of  the  fact  and  the  act.  The  edu- 
cated person  is  one  who  has  this  ability  to  profit 
by  his  past  experiences  and  who  can  use  any 
one  of  his  experiences  to  get  more  experience. 

In  its  backward  reference,  to  past  experience, 
we  speak  of  the  image  as  a  memory-image.  In  its 
forward  reference,  to  the  development  of  a  new 
experience,  we  speak  of  the  constructive  im- 
agination. Experience  embraces  the  memory  of 


170         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

an  historic  past,  the  perception  of  a  living  pre- 
sent, and  the  ideal  of  a  future.  Through 
andimagi-  memory  we  reconstruct  the  past,  and 
through  imagination  we  construct  the 
future,  from  the  standpoint  of  the  present. 
Memory  and  imagination  are  correlative  phases 
of  the  image.  As  in  the  case  of  sensation,  we 
saw  that,  negatively,  it  represents  obstruction 
and  failure,  and,  positively,  presents  the  basis 
and  conditions  for  reconstruction ;  so  in  the 
case  of  the  image,  looking  backward,  ideas  are 
pictures  of  past  adjustments,  looking  forward, 
they  are  plans  of  action.  But  these  two  phases 
of  the  image  are  reciprocally  interdependent. 
We  do  not  seek  to  recall  past  experience  save 
with  reference  to  some  future  end,  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  it  is  only  in  terms  of  the  past 
that  we  can  plan  future  action.  In  one  sense, 
experience  is  ever  new.  In  another  sense,  there 
is  nothing  new  under  the  sun. 

The  chief  difference  between  man  and  the 
brutes  is  his  possession  of  these  powers  of  mem- 
ory and  imagination.  The  animal  lives  in  the 
present.  Man  has  a  history  and  dwells  in  a 
world  of  ideals.  Memory  probably  originated 
as  a  prolonged  after-sensation,  a  reverberation 
in  the  organism  of  a  stimulus  after  the  crisis 


THINKING  171 

had  passed.  This  became  the  basis  o£  learning 
by  experience  and  was  selected  because  of  its 
utility  in  the  struggle  for  life.  The  transition 
from  the  brute  to  the  human  occurred  when 
the  animal  first  became  conscious  of  the  fact 
that  intelligence  and  ideas  might  take  the  place 
of  brute  force  and  physical  prowess.  Indirect 
reactions  became  substituted  for  direct  reactions 
to  the  environment.  The  animal  did  not  wait 
until  the  emergency  was  upon  it,  but  profited 
by  past  experience  and  deliberated  upon  pos- 
sible future  contingencies.  Ideas  took  the  place 
of  claws  and  teeth,  and  sagacity  of  fleetness  of 
foot.  Man  resorted  to  images  instead  of  arms 
to  settle  his  disputes,  and  to  discussion  instead 
of  personal  combat. 

An  image  is  a  habit  turned  outside  in,  while 
a  habit  is  an  image  turned  inside  out.  Memory 
is  just  an  expression  of  the  ineffective- 
ness of  habit.  We  have  seen  that  habit  Memory 
is  the  process  of  facilitation  by  which 
a  conscious  passes  over  into  an  unconscious  act. 
Committing  to  memory  or  learning  by  rote  is 
an  illustration  of  such  mechanization.  But  it  is 
a  curious  paradox  that,  if  w^e  should  completely 
memorize  anything  it  would  cease  to  be  a  mat- 
ter of  memory  and  enter  the  realm  of  automat- 


172         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

ism  or  unconsciousness.  It  remains  conscious 
only  as  long  as  it  is  not  perfectly  memorized,  only 
as  long  as  there  is  enough  tension  to  keep  it  con- 
tinually recurring  to  consciousness.  Deliberate 
memorizing,  in  fact,  forms  a  very  small  part  of 
our  conscious  experience.  The  greater  part  of  the 
time  the  effects  of  the  stimuli  which  play  upon  us 
are  registered  subconsciously  in  the  nervous  sys- 
tem, where  they  remain  in  the  form  of  modified 
brain-structure  until  the  appropriate  situation 
calls  them  into  conscious  activity  as  images.  All 
modes  of  perception  by  their  frequent  repe- 
tition drop  out  of  consciousness  as  they  be- 
come mechanized,  persisting  only  in  the  form 
of  intellectual  habits.  These  automatic  modes 
of  cognition,  so  long  as  they  take  place  along 
customary  lines  unimpeded  by  novel  factors,  are 
simply  exhibitions  of  habitual  response.  But  the 
presence  of  a  relatively  new  element  makes  ne- 
cessary a  readjustment,  and  the  clashing  and  re- 
ciprocal modification  of  these  conflicting  factors 
is  what  is  known  as  the  deliberative  aspect  of 
the  reflective  consciousness.  In  this  deliberation 
the  habits  of  perception  which  are  undergoing 
revision  are  represented  by  ideas  or  images. 
The  more  detail  with  which  the  habit  emerges, 
the  more  concrete  the  image.  Where  it  under- 


THINKING  173 

goes  least  reconstruction  in  coming  to  conscious- 
ness, we  get  tbe  generic  idea  or  concept. 

Memory  is  thus  not  a  faculty,  but  a  fact  of 
consciousness.  Ideas  are  not  stored  away  as  in 
a  cabinet.  When  they  pass  out  of  con-  „ 

J  r  Memory 

sciousness  they  cease  to  exist  as  ideas.  ^^ 

.  .  Habit 

What  is  stored  up  is  not  the  image,  but 
the  capacity  to  produce  the  image.  What  is  re- 
tained is  not  an  idea,  but  a  neural  habit  which 
under  appropriate  conditions  is  capable  of  reviv- 
ing the  idea.  The  fundamental  fact  concerning 
memory  is  the  retention  of  physiological  traces 
in  the  nerve-centres.  When  these  call  out  a  re- 
action smoothly,  without  the  process  coming 
to  consciousness,  we  call  it  habit.  When  the 
process  of  stimulation  and  response  comes  to 
consciousness,  we  have  sensation  and  image. 
Memory  is  simply  a  bias  or  set  which  the  organ- 
ism has  acquired,  which  leads  it  to  respond  as  it 
has  responded  on  former  occasions.  Facts  strung 
upon  the  invisible  thread  of  some  deep-seated 
habit,  by  as  yet  little  understood  processes  of 
unconscious  cerebration,  leap  into  consciousness 
full-fledged  in  a  way  that  is  unintelligible  until 
we  recall  the  long  and  persistent  effort  by  which 
these  habits  have  been  formed. 

Imagination  in  the  original  and  Hteral  sense 


174         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

of  the  word  is  image-ination,  and  would  thus 
include  both  memory  and  what  is  ordi- 
stnictiTe  narily  called  imagination.  But  the  term 
has  come  to  be  used  exclusively  for  the 
anticipative  and  constructive  phase  of  the  image. 
In  one  sense  memory  itself  may  be  regarded  as 
an  idealization,  since  it  is  the  reconstruction  of 
that  which  has  now  only  an  ideal  existence. 
And,  certainly,  imaginative  construction  is  not 
possible  except  on  a  basis  of  memory-images. 
But,  ordinarily,  it  is  the  constructive,  idealizing 
aspect  of  imagination,  as  it  is  the  reproductive, 
reconstructive  aspect  of  memory,  which  is  em- 
phasized. 

An  ideal  is  the  projection  of  past  or  present 
into  the  realm  of  possible  conditions.  All  ideali- 
ideaiiza-  zation  in volves  abstraction.  An  abstract 
**^  idea,  indeed,  isatautologous  expression, 

since  it  is  the  very  nature  of  an  idea  to  be  ab- 
stract. If  the  concrete  activity  of  experience 
were  taking  place  with  perfect  adequacy,  we 
would  not  stop  to  think,  or  polarize  it  into  the 
abstract  phases  we  call  sensation  and  image.  But 
the  value  of  an  ideal  in  such  a  case  lies  just  in 
the  fact  that  it  gets  far  enough  away  from  the 
concrete  or  practical  to  see  it  in  true  perspec- 
tive. The  commander  of  an  army  leaves  the  bat- 


THINKING  175 

tlefield  and  views  the  conflict  from  a  hill,  that 
he  may  the  better  through  his  emissaries  control 
the  action  on  that  very  battlefield.  Every  scien- 
tific and  philosophical  law  is  ideal  in  this  sense. 
The  highest  use  of  the  constructive  imagina- 
tion is  in  the  discovery  of  new  truth  and  the  or- 
ganization of  new  ideas.  We  call  that 
man  a  genius  who  has  this  inventive 
gift.  His  originality  is  comparable  to  those  so- 
called  fortuitous  variations  in  the  biological 
world  which  lead  to  the  progressive  evolution 
of  organic  life.  By  some  as  yet  httle  understood 
principle  he  organizes  old  elements  into  such 
combinations,  or  brings  to  light  hidden  factors  in 
such  a  manner,  as  to  lead  to  relatively  new  ways 
of  doing  things.  All  we  know  is  this,  that 
originality  roots  in  the  life  of  instinct  and  emo- 
tion, and  that  the  greater  freedom  these  natural 
impulses  may  have,  while  yet  kept  under  the 
control  of  a  rational  ideal,  the  greater  is  the 
chance  for  the  evolution  of  fresh  insight  and 
new  coordinations. 

§    20.    THOUGHT   AND   LANGUAGE 

That  knowledge  is  a  social  product  is  a  fa- 
miliar idea,  but  that  it  is  likewise  a  social  process 
is  a  conception  which  has  not  received  the  atten- 


176         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

tion  it  deserves.  In  the  former  sense,  knowledge 
Language  becomes  embodied  in  an  objective  and 
AspSro?  more  or  less  permanent  form  in  human 
Thought,  language  and  literature.  But  this  is 
not  knowledge  as  a  vital  and  developing  thing. 
Knowledge  grows  through  continual  construc- 
tion and  reconstruction  of  its  social  conditions. 
Language  is  the  chief  sphere  of  such  social  in- 
teraction, in  which  selves  most  adequately  share 
one  another's  experience  by  a  communication 
of  their  more  complex  emotions  and  ideas.  It 
has  been  the  chief  instrument  in  raising  man 
above  the  brutes,  because  it  has  been  useful  at 
once  in  perpetuating  and  in  elaborating  social 
intercourse. 

Words,  to  be  language,  must  combine  the 

two  functions  of  communication  and  expression 

—  communication  to  another,  and  ex- 

Communl-  ^  ' 

cation  and    pressiou  of  ouc's  sclf.  But  commuuica- 

Ezpression.    ^ . 

tion  has  been  conceived  as  a  more  or 
less  external  process  going  on  between  two  fixed 
selves,  each  of  which  has  his  own  mental  ma- 
chinery for  evolving  ideas,  this  social  interac- 
tion being  a  kind  of  mutual  exchange  of  the 
finished  product,  but  not  having  any  intrinsic 
relation  to  the  development  of  the  ideas  them- 
selves. This  is  a  mistake.  It  is  no  more  true 


THINKING  177 

that  the  function  of  language  is  exclusively 
social  than  that  the  function  of  thought  is  ex- 
clusively individual.  Speaking  and  writing  are 
the  same  activity  in  overt  expression  that  we 
call  by  the  names  of  feeling  or  thinking  when 
partially  inhibited.  Emotions  and  ideas  are  as 
truly  acts  as  vocalizations  and  manual  inscrip- 
tions :  they  are  merely  different  stages  in  a  com- 
mon process.  Thinking  is  only  an  inner  speaking, 
and  speaking  is  thinking  aloud.  As  a  vocaliza- 
tion or  inscription  is  a  word,  in  a  true  sense, 
only  when  it  expresses  a  meaning,  so  a  feeling 
or  an  idea  is  such,  in  the  fullest  sense,  only  when 
it  finds  objective  embodiment  and  social  recog- 
nition. 

Language  is  communication.  Words  serve  to 
make  thought  shareable  and  socially  verifiable. 
It  is  mainly  by  literature,  says  Steven- 

.  .        .  .         The  Process 

son,  that  the  business  of  life  is  carried  oi  commu- 

nlcatlon 

on.  But  it  is  an  error  to  suppose  that 
the  sole  function  of  language  is  communication. 
Equally  important  is  its  retroactive  effect  upon 
thought  itself.  As  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  says 
in  "The  Poet  at  tbe  Breakfast-Table,"  "I 
talk  half  the  time  to  find  out  my  own  thoughts, 
as  a  schoolboy  turns  his  pockets  inside  out  to 
see  what  is  in  them."  —  "  Don't  talk,  thinking 


178         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

you  are  going  to  find  out  your  neighbor,  for 
you  won't  do  it,  but  talk  to  find  out  yourself." 
Nothing  could  be  further  from  the  truth  than 
to  suppose  that  we  cannot  discuss  a  subject  un- 
til we  have  defined  our  ideas,  since  it  is  just  by 
discussion  that  ideas  are  defined.  And  nothinsr 
is  more  stupid  than  to  suppose  that  the  mean- 
ing of  a  word  in  any  vital  controversy  can  be 
settled  by  consulting  the  dictionary  or  encyclo- 
paedia, since  these  compendiums  are  made  up 
from  the  use  of  words  in  just  such  controver- 
sies. 

Language  is  at  once  social  and  individual  in 

its  function ;  thinking  on  its  overt  or  objective 

side  is  speech,  while  speech  on  its  inner 

At  once  ...        . 

Individual     or  subiective  side  is  called  thinking^  or 

and  social.  \xt      j  .    .^  • 

ideas.  VV  ords  are  not  the  mere  passive 
instruments  or  vehicles  of  thought,  but  a  living 
stage  in  its  growth.  Ideas  are  not  an  independ- 
ent development  in  the  mind  of  the  individual, 
but  are  dependent  for  their  growth  upon  com- 
munication, that  is,  upon  their  social  function 
and  reference.  Not  as  an  isolated  individual, 
but  as  a  member  of  society,  has  man  built 
up  his  knowledge.  Symbols  as  instruments  of 
individual  thought  come  later  than  symbols 
in  their  communal  capacity.  We  do  not  begin 


THINKING  179 

apart,  each  building  up  an  intellectual  world 
for  himself,  and  then  find  that  these  agree  or 
make  them  agree  by  social  intercourse.  The 
ideas  are  socially  determined  from  the  outset. 

Language  has  as  important  a  relation  to  the 
evolution  of  thought  as  thought  to  the  evolution 
of  language.  A  word  is  not  simply  the  ^^g  p^^. 
expression  of  the  idea  which  an  iudi-  wwdi^t 
vidual  has  in  his  mind :  it  is  one  con-  £^^01^^°^"^" 
dition  and  stage  in  its  development  o*^«"ea- 
as  an  idea.  Words  are  expressed  ideas,  it  is 
true.  But  it  is  also  true  that  ideas  are  inhib- 
ited words:  thinking  is  refraining  from  speak- 
ing, postponing  the  overt  expression.  Intelhgi- 
bility  is  the  function  of  thought  rather  than  of 
language,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  meaningful 
language  is  just  thought  become  intelligible. 
The  little  girl  who,  responding  to  the  leading 
questions  of  her  big  brothers,  innocently  af&rmed 
that  she  saw  a  ribbon  and  a  bell  around  the 
neck  of  the  rattlesnake  as  it  glided  away  into 
the  grass,  was  using  language  as  much  as  the 
child  who  told  a  lie  deliberately  to  deceive.  The 
lie,  in  the  latter  case,  was  obviously  for  purposes 
of  communication.  The  embroidering,  in  the 
former  case,  was  a  stage  rather  in  the  definition 
to  herself  of  what  she  saw.  Her  speaking,  and 


180         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

the  others'  understanding,  was  a  condition  of 
makino^  her  meaning^  clear  to  herself. 

The  boy  learns  that  my  knee  is  a  "  knee  "  [says 
Professor  Baldwin].  He  forthwith  begins  to  look 
upon  the  corner  of  the  table  as  a  "  knee  "  ;  so  is  the 
end  of  the  stick  of  firewood  a  "  knee  " ;  the  moun- 
tain becomes  a  "big  knee,"  and  the  pencil  should 
have  its  "  little  knee "  sharpened.  .  .  .  He  finds 
himself  straining  the  meanings  ...  in  his  efforts 
to  make  himself  understood  by  others.  When  he 
speaks  of  the  "  knee  "  of  the  table,  I  fail  to  under- 
stand him,  perhaps,  and  he  sees  that  his  first  appre- 
hension is  in  some  way  not  that  which  gets  social 
confirmation.  So  he  abandons  his  first  interpretation, 
and  either  asks  me  why  a  table-corner  is  not  a  knee, 
or  shows  me  by  pointing  what  he  means  by  speaking 
of  the  table's  knee,  or  waits  to  hear  in  my  further 
conversation  the  distinctions  which  resolve  the  puzzle 
for  him. 

That  is,  the  child  learns  better  what  his  own 
words  mean  by  using  them  for  purposes  of  com- 
munication. He  assimilates  new  meanings  to  his 
old  ones,  on  the  one  hand,  and  expresses  him- 
self socially  for  the  judgment  of  his  fellows,  on 
the  other.  An  idea  does  not  cease  to  be  an  idea 
when  it  becomes  a  word.  The  speaker's  meaning 
is  fully  thought  out  only  when  it  is  expressed 
and  communicated,  since  in  order  to  become 


THINKING  181 

what,  as  an  idea,  it  purports  to  be,  it  is  depend- 
ent in  part  upon  the  response  of  the  person  to 
whom  it  is  addressed.  There  is  a  reciprocal  give- 
and-take  in  language  :  the  condition  of  the  ade- 
quate elaboration  of  my  own  thought  is  that  I 
translate  it  into  words  and  call  out  your  reaction 
to  them,  while  the  condition  of  your  translating 
these  words  into  terms  of  your  thought  is  that 
you  assist  me  in  defining  my  ideas.  Language 
can  fully  express  thought  only  by  communicat- 
ing it,  while  thought  can  interpret  language 
only  by  responding  to  it. 

This  conception  of  knowledge  as  a  social 
process  and  of  language  as  a  stage  in  the  elabo- 
ration of  thous^ht,  solves  the  much-de- 

•  11  1  1        Is  Thought 

bated  question  as  to  whether  thought  or  Language 
is  possible  without  words.  Is  language 
or  thought  prior  ?  It  all  depends  upon  what  is 
meant  by  the  question.  If  by  language  is  meant 
verbal  forms  exclusively,  such  as  are  character- 
istic of  human  communication,  then  it  is  obvious 
that  thought  must  precede  language.  Even 
among;  civilized  human  beinjjs  with  their  com- 
plex  linguistic  systems,  the  inability  of  words  to 
express  thought  is  a  commonplace.  How  diffi- 
cult it  is  to  say  just  what  one  means,  much  more 
to  write  it !  The  import  of  the  terms  we  use 


182         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

seems  to  lie  in  the  accompanying  gesture,  into- 
nation, inflection,  accent,  and  general  attitude, 
which  are  capable  of  only  partial  embodiment 
in  the  verbal  forms.  The  real  meaning,  we  say, 
is  "  between  the  lines."  An  important  part  of 
literary  criticism  is  the  interpreting  of  what  an 
author  explicitly  says  in  terms  of  what  there  is 
other  evidence  that  he  meant  to  say. 

But  if  language  is  primarily  a  mode  of  motor- 
response,  which  comes  to  stand  as  the  sign  of 
some  other  reaction  or  ^roup  of  reac- 

Lasgnage         ,  . 

asaMod6     tious,  then  any  motor  expression  may 

of  Action.  - 

serve  as  a  language-symbol.  Examples 
are  beckoning,  threatening,  raising  the  index 
finger,  scowling,  exclamations,  and  imitative 
sounds  generally.  The  spoken  or  written  word 
is  only  one  form  of  such  expression.  Words  have 
proved  the  most  effective  instruments  for  the 
expression  of  thought,  but  they  are  part  only  of 
a  great  class  of  experiences  which  are  used  as 
symbols.  Pictures  are  language  without  words. 
Geometrical  figures  are  residual  pictures.  The 
child  finds  a  meaning  in  objects  and  in  repre- 
sentations of  objects  long  before  he  can  name 
these  objects  or  read  the  description  of  the  pic- 
tures in  the  text.  The  close  relation  existing:  be- 
tween  symbol  and  thing  symbolized  is  exhibited 


THINKING  183 

by  the  naive  attitude  toward  language.  To  the 
untutored  mind  the  name  and  the  thing  belong 
to  each  other  absolutely.  The  thing  is  unthink- 
able without  a  name.  Form  and  content  so 
together  in  an  inevitable  way.  The  name  is  not 
merely  a  convenient  tag  or  sign  :  it  is  a  part  of 
the  form  of  the  thing  itself,  as  much  so  as  its  size 
or  color.  This  is  well  illustrated  in  the  remark 
of  the  peasant :  "  That  the  astronomers  can  tell 
us  how  far  off  the  stars  are  and  how  they  move, 
that  I  can  understand,  but  how  in  the  world  did 
they  ever  learn  their  names  ?  " 

If  language  is  simply  a  special  modification 
and  use  of  one  motor  expression  to  stand  for 
another,  thouo-ht  cannot  be  prior,  for 

111111  -1    The  Origin 

both  thought  and  language  are  special  oi  Lan- 
growths  out  of  action.  Intellectual 
growth,  both  in  the  race  and  the  child,  is  de- 
pendent upon  that  mode  of  expression  and  com- 
munication of  ideas  which  is  accomplished 
chiefly  through  spoken  and  written  symbols. 
Language  probably  originated  in  the  cries  and 
calls  of  animals,  the  vowels  first.  As  Professor 
Patrick  says,  the  cry  of  pain,  the  scream  of  fear, 
the  shout  of  joy,  the  growl  of  anger,  the  song 
of  love,  and  finally  the  articulate  word,  are  all 
forms  of  language.  The  cry  of  pain  brings  food 


184         PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 

and  aid  to  the  young.  The  song  of  love  is  use- 
ful in  alluring  the  desired  mate.  The  scream  of 
fear  is  a  warning  of  danger.  The  growl  or  snarl 
or  roar  of  anger  is  useful  in  putting  to  flight  an 
opponent.  We  may  imagine  the  primitive  man 
pointing  to  indicate  the  present  object;  gestur- 
ing and  grunting  to  indicate  the  absent  object 
(expressing  thus  what  he  would  do  if  the  object 
were  present)  ;  then  the  word,  perhaps  an  evo- 
lution of  the  grunt,  comes  finally  to  be  taken 
as  the  symbol  of  the  past  or  future  act  and  of 
the  absent  object.  As  an  outward  sign  of 
thought,  Him  says,  action  is  more  immediate 
than  words.  In  drama  we  see,  as  it  were,  a 
vestige  of  primitive  language.  Vocalization 
probably  took  the  place  of  gesture-language 
because  the  vocal  organs  were  freer  from  the 
immediate  economic  demands  placed  upon  the 
hands  in  the  industrial  evolution  of  the  ape- 
man  when  he  assumed  the  erect  stature.  Then 
later,  as  a  leisure  class  of  scribes  and  scholars 
arose,  because  of  relative  freedom  from  direct 
participation  in  this  struggle,  it  was  possible  for 
language  again  to  become  manual,  and  thence- 
forth graphic  supervenes  upon  oral  communica- 
tion. 

We  have  said  that  thinking  is  balancing  of 


THINKING  185 

motor-tendencies,  that  thought  is  inhibited  or 
nascent  action.  An  incipient  act  (an  ^j^^ 
image  or  a  word)  is  taken  as  standing  JSiSm°* 
for  the  completed  performance.  Lan-  «"p°ii3o. 
guage  becomes,  thus,  the  chief  instrument  of 
control  in  thought.  If  vre  had  to  go  through 
the  original  performance  of  the  act  each  time 
we  wished  to  think  of  it,  we  never  could  make 
any  progress  in  our  thinking.  The  key  to  the 
relation  of  language  to  thought  hes  in  seeing 
that  it,  too,  is  but  a  special  mode  of  action.  The 
basis  of  all  language-roots  is  organic  behavior. 
Using  words  is  making  one  act  serve  vicariously 
for  another  act.  Language  is  the  substitution 
of  a  minor  for  a  major  part  of  the  process  of 
experience. 

The  important  characteristic  of  language  is 
its  symbolic  character.  A  word,  whether  spoken 
or  written,  is  a  sign.  But  what  do  we 
mean  by  a  symbol   or  sign?   Mental  ingot l"^' 
states,  mental  images,  ideas,  thoughts,    ^^  ° 
concepts,  seem  all  to  possess  this  character  of 
being    signs,  symbols,  copies,    or   pictures    of 
something  else.  What  is  this  peculiar  character 
of  some  of  our  experiences  which  constitutes 
them  symbols  or  indicators  or  clues  to  other 
experiences?   It  lies  in  fact  that  such  symbolic 


186         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

experiences  are  incipient  or  partial,  that  is,  are 
either  not  fully  carried  out  or  are  part-processes 
within  a  larger  process.  To  point  at  the  door 
is  a  restraint  of  the  impulse  to  kick  the  intruder 
down  the  stairs.  To  speak  the  word,  "  Go ! "  is 
an  inhibited  or  incipient  mode  of  activity.  A 
glance  of  the  eye,  a  frown,  a  thought,  would  be 
a  still  more  reduced  act.  Lang-uaofe  consists  in 
letting  some  incipient  or  partial  form  of  acti\4ty 
stand  for  the  more  overt  and  complete  act:  the 
incipient  innervations  of  the  accessory  or  finer 
muscles  of  manual  dexterity  or  laryngeal  artic- 
ulation standing  for,  and  if  necessary  directing, 
the  grosser  movements  and  coordinations  of  the 
fundamental  or  trunk-muscles.  There  is  a  min- 
iature inner  rehearsal  of  the  more  complete  per- 
formance on  the  stage  of  overt  action.  Language 
stands  half-way  between  the  gross  activities  of 
the  larger  muscles,  such  as  are  employed  in  loco- 
motion, and  these  finer  and  more  subtle  so-called 
mental  or  thought  activities  which  are  due  to 
the  intercurrent  innervations  and  inhibitions  of 
these  smaller  muscles.  The  comparative  freedom 
of  the  larynx  from  the  more  strenuous  economic 
demands  put  upon  the  grosser  musculatures, 
eminently  fits  it  for  performing  this  intermediary 
function  between  the  overt  action  of  every-day 


THINKING  187 

life  and  the  refinements  of  what  we  call  our 
inner  mental  or  intellectual  life. 

It  thus  appears  that  a  thought  or  idea  is  not 
complete  until  it  breaks  over  the  inhibitions 
which  constitute  it  as  such,  and  be- 
comes a  word.  Thought  reaches  com-  is  tie  com- 
pletion only  by  expression  in  language-  '  ^  * 
form,  only  in  the  act  of  communication.  A  word 
is  not  a  sign  or  a  symbol  (that  is,  it  is  not  really 
a  word)  if  taken  apart  from  the  thought  which 
initiates  it  or  apart  from  the  act  to  which  it 
leads.  From  this  point  of  view  it  becomes  clear 
why  it  is  that  communicating  my  thought  in 
language-terms  to  you  is  one  condition  of  ade- 
quately defining  it  to  myself. 

Language  serves  to  keep  up  the  tension  of 
thought  by  bringing  past  and  future  together. 
By  means  of  oral  tradition  or  written 
documents  it  is  possible  for  the  modern  of  Lan- 
thinker  to  commune  with  the  sasres  of  ^^^*' 
antiquity.  It  is  because  language  serves  to  keep 
an  end  before  the  mind  and  to  define  it,  that  it 
has  been  of  so  much  service  in  the  evolution  of 
reflective  thought.  It  shows  the  stimuli  to  action 
becoming  indirect,  that  is,  passing  through  the 
medium  of  consciousness  and  becoming  reinter- 
preted  before  the  action  finally  takes  place.  A 


188         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

■word  is  a  device  for  preserving  the  meaning  or 
value  of  former  experiences  without  again  going 
through  them.  It  conserves  the  thouj^ht  of  the 
past.  It  is  a  sort  of  memory  by  which  we  live 
over  past  situations.  Language  may  thus  be  a 
help  to  thought  in  widening  the  scope  of  con- 
sciousness :  it  facilitates  abstraction,  in  a  com- 
plicated situation,  thereby  assisting  to  keep  up 
the  interaction  between  the  various  elements, 
distant  it  may  be  in  time  and  space,  which  are 
necessary  to  cognitive  mediation.  In  the  case 
of  the  lower  animal  this  mechanism  for  keeping 
up  the  tension  by  contextual  intensification  and 
enrichment  of  the  problem  is  lacking. 

But  this  very  facilitation  of  abstraction  has 

its  dangers:  it  is  often  a  hindrance  rather  than 

a  help  to  thinking.  Lansfua^e  is  a  valu- 

TheLlml-         .  .      f  ^^  i    •        i  i 

tauonsoi  able  instrument  oi  control  m  thought, 
but,  as  Professor  Dewey  says,  the  very 
meaning  of  a  control-element  implies  that  it  is 
present  only  symbolically,  that  is,  ideally — not 
as  existent.  If  it  were  present  as  actual  existence, 
it  would  be  the  "material"  needing  control. 
That  is,  the  control-element  depends  upon  ab- 
straction— letting  the  part  stand  for  the  whole. 
Now,  while  abstractions  or  class-names  are  a 
great  economy  in  thinking,  in  that  they  retain 


THINKING  189 

the  essential  while  rejecting  the  unessential,  and 
thus  put  at  our  command  the  central  meaning 
of  previous  experiences,  they  do  this  at  a  sac- 
rifice of  exactness  and  fidelity  in  details.  It  is 
proverbially  true  that  class-names  are  especially 
liable  to  ambiguity  by  reason  of  this  abstraction 
from  the  concrete  situation.  If  any  of  our  de- 
scriptive terms  were  absolutely  accurate,  they 
would  be  lacking  in  what  is  ordinarily  regarded 
as  their  true  descriptive  force.  It  is  only  because 
a  word  slurs  over  (by  abstracting  from)  the  dif- 
ferences, that  it  can  be  used  to  describe  more 
than  a  single  object  or  situation.  It  follows  that 
Avords  pay  for  their  general  utility  by  losing  in 
precision  as  descriptions  of  the  particular  case. 
This  is  why  the  language  of  art  is  often  more 
precise  for  certain  purposes  than  that  of  science 
or  philosophy. 

The  complexity  of  even  the  simplest  of  our 
verbal  experiences  has  long  been  a  matter  of 
comment  among  psychologists.  The  Factors  in 
exact  determination  of  the  number  and  ^age^on- 
relative  streng^ths  of  the  different  ele-  sciousness. 
ments  involved  is  just  beginning  to  be  studied 
experimentally.  These  factors  have  customarily 
been  grouped  under  four  heads.  A  verbal  idea, 
according  to  Professor  Titchener, 


190         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

consists  of  an  auditory  complex,  a  mixture  of  clang 
and  noise  (word  heard);  a  strain  complex,  due  to  the 
adjustment  of  the  larynx  and  mouth  necessary  for 
the  emission  of  a  particular  sound  (word  spoken) ; 
a  visual  complex,  a  written  or  printed  form  (word 
seen),  and  the  strain  complex  due  to  the  adjustment 
of  hand  and  fingers  necessary  for  the  production  of 
this  form  (word  written). 

In  our  actual  experience  these  factors  are 
not  present  in  equal  degree.  Some  persons  are 
eye-minded,  others  ear-minded,  others  think 
almost  exclusively  in  terms  of  acts.  But  proba- 
bly in  normal  consciousness  each  factor  has  a 
more  or  less  influential  part  to  play.  The  "mo- 
tor" or  kineesthetic  factor  is  uniformly  combined 
with  the  auditory  and  visual.  This  reduces  the 
four  factors  in  the  above  analysis  to  two,  which 
we  may  call  the  auditory-kinaesthetic  and  the 
visual-kinaesthetic.  There  is  a  wide  range  of 
variability  in  the  relative  proportions  which 
may  exist  among  these  factors,  and  it  is  this 
which  gives  our  language  its  adaptability  to  so 
many  shades  of  meaning.  This  is  the  psycho- 
genetic  source  of  those  formal  distinctions  which 
we  have  introduced  into  what  we  call  the  "  cor- 
rect" use  of  language.  And  it  is  this  which 
makes  possible  the  richness  and  variety  of  the 


THINKING  191 

language  and  literature  of  civilized  man,  with 
his  linguistic  science  and  literary  criticism. 

The  part  played  by  the  auditory  imagery  in 
speech,  whether  heard  or  spoken,  and  by  the 
visual  imagery  in  reading  and  writing,  ^he  Funda- 
is  matter  of  common  observation.  But  ™ortI^cS^i 
the  fundamental  importance  of  the  i^ia»s«Iltio 
kinaesthetic  imagery  is  frequently  over-  ^^gery. 
looked.  It  is  very  much  more  important  than 
was  formerly  recognized.  Strieker  first  called 
attention  to  the  part  played  by  this  kinaesthetic 
factor,  and,  while  his  introspective  observations 
may  not  be  confirmed  in  the  case  of  other  per- 
sons who  have  less  striking  motor  experiences, 
he  has  certainly  shown  that  the  function  of  the 
tactile-kinsesthetic  imagery  is  the  clue  to  the 
function  of  the  other  types.  Our  language-con- 
sciousness is  simply  a  special  form  of  that  in- 
termediate adaptive  or  reconstructive  process 
which,  in  the  preceding  pages,  we  have  described 
as  the  mechanism  of  transformation  of  a  pro- 
gressive evolving  experience.  On  its  inward  or 
organic  side  this  consists  of  mutual  tensions 
and  inhibitions  of  incipient  activities  —  giving 
rise  to  images  of  the  various  sorts  we  have  been 
describing.  The  external  or  overt  aspect  ex- 
hibits these  same  tendencies  findins:  outward 


192         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

expression  in  the  form  of  spoken  or  written 
words.  The  unit  of  meaning  in  these  external, 
as  in  the  internal,  symbols  is  determined  by 
the  act  or  coordination,  and  therefore  is  pri- 
marily in  kinsesthetic  terms.  No  act  gets  its 
full  meaning  until  it  is  carried  out  to  the  ac- 
complishment of  an  end.  No  combination  of 
letters  or  words  can  have  meaning  except  as 
it  symboHcally  reflects  such  an  act.  And  such 
a  unit  is  found  only  in  the  sentence  or  some 
larger  language  whole. 

This  view  is  supported  by  the  fact  that  prim- 
itive people  in  writing  did  not  separate  their 
The  Unit  of  words.  The  alphabet  did  not  originate 
the^en^  ^'  uutil  long  after  the  genesis  of  language, 
tence.  Q^j.  literature  did  not  begin  as  separate 
words  expressive  of  distinct  ideas,  which  then 
were  welded  into  the  phrase,  the  sentence,  the 
paragraph,  but  began  as  a  vague  whole  which 
then  was  analyzed  into  these  elements.  In  a  true 
logical  theory,  the  proposition  does  not  express 
a  judgment  until  the  words  are  grasped,  not 
merely  as  separate  units,  but  as  entering  into 
each  other,  thus  becoming  parts  in  a  whole  of 
meaning.  This  is  often  expressed  by  saying 
that  the  sentence  is  the  unit  of  language,  that 
is,  "a  word  taken  by  itself  cannot  have  a  com- 


THINKING  193 

plete  meaning  —  unless  it  is  a  verb,  or  used 
"with  verbal  force,  for  a  verb  is  an  unanalyzed  sen- 
tence." In  truth,  neither  the  noun  nor  the  verb 
is  prior.  They  arise  together,  since  both  are  es- 
sential to  the  expression  of  a  unit  of  meaning. 
The  verb  is  the  most  active  part  of  speech,  that 
is,  it  expresses  the  dynamic  character  of  the  ex- 
perience within  which  the  distinctions  of  sub- 
stantive, adjective,  adverb,  etc.,  are  set  up.  A 
command,  a  wish,  an  exclamation,  a  question, 
may  be  viewed  as  the  sentence  in  the  making. 
They  are  incipient  judgments,  judgments  before 
they  have  become  clearly  analyzed  into  the 
phases  which,  in  the  developed  form,  we  call 
subject,  predicate,  and  copula.  When  a  unit 
act  of  thought  comes  to  be  stated  as  a  judgment 
in  formal  language-elements,  it  is  called  a  pro- 
position. But  here,  of  course,  thought  as  such 
has  ceased.  Mere  terms  and  propositions  are 
not  thinking.  Thought  ever  moves,  on,  leaving 
these  inert  symbols  behind,  as  the  butterfly 
leaves  its  dead  chrysalis  as  a  reminder  of  what 
it  once  was. 

Professor  Creighton  says  that  consciousness 
must  be  reffarded  as  having:  from  the  first  the 
form  of  a  judgment.  This  is  true  if  by  judgment 
is  meant  any  projection  of  means  and  ends,  how- 


194         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

ever  vasfue.   In  this  sense  all  consciousness  and 
attention   imply    thought.     Judgment 

Judgment.      .  •  o  £ 

IS  any  conscious    reierence    oi   mean- 
ing to  fact.  There  is  no  thought-process  which 
does  not  involve  some  interrelation  of  means 
and  ends,  some  tension  and  interaction  of  sen- 
sation and  idea,  some  analysis  and  synthesis  of 
a  subject-matter  in  and  through  a  predicated 
content.  The  whole  process  of  judgment  grows 
out  of  the  needs  of  an  active  experience,  and 
has  an  intermediary  function  in  such  an  expe- 
rience. It  searches  out  the  ways  and  means  of 
action.  It  is  an  experience  in  the  act  of  con- 
sciously passing  over  into  another  experience, 
with  a  recognition  of  the  grounds  or  reasons 
for  the  transition.  Conscious  experience  may  be 
viewed  as  a  series  of  related  judgments.    Mr. 
Bosanquet  speaks  of  judgment  as  the  conscious- 
ness of  at  world,  and  describes  knowledge  as  the 
continuous  affirmative  judgment  of  the  waking 
consciousness.  Philosophy  is  the  widest  possible 
affirmation,   which    asserts  the   universe    as  a 
great  systematic  whole ;  and  this  is  broken  up  into 
the  myriad  specific  scientific  judgments  which 
state  in  detail  what  is  implied  in  this  all-compre- 
hensive statement.  If  experience  be  conceived 
as  the  successive  solution  of  problems,  and  each 


THINKING  195 

judgment  the  solution  of  a  single  problem,  then 
the  history  of  science  may  be  viewed  as  one 
great,  prolonged,  complex  detailed  effort  to 
solve  the  riddle  of  the  universe. 

The  significance  of  subject,  predicate,  and 
copula  lies  in  the  respective  functions  which 
they  perform  in  the  mediation  of  ex- 
perience. The  subject  is  the  formula-  predicate, 
tion  of  the  conditions  of  action.  The 
predicate  is  the  statement  of  the  method  of  deal- 
ing with  the  conditions.  The  copula  is  the 
attempt  to  apply  the  method  under  the  condi- 
tions. You  wish  to  become  a  proficient  musician. 
The  impulse  or  desire  to  sing  and  play  repre- 
sents an  activity  already  going  on,  but  in  an 
imperfect  and  unsatisfactory  way.  Certain  nat- 
ural gifts,  such  as  good  vocal  organs,  a  good 
ear,  pliable  fingers,  and  a  certain  knowledge  of 
the  technique  of  vocalization  and  of  instru- 
mentation, represent  the  available  material  or 
subject-matter  which  may  serve  as  a  basis  for 
making  a  good  singer  or  player.  This  is  the 
side  of  the  subject  of  the  judgment,  the  means 
which  may  be  employed,  the  conditions  of 
action.  On  the  other  hand,  this  desire  to  become 
askillful  singer  and  player  involves  a  conception, 
an  idea,  an  ideal,  which  you  hold  before  you 


196         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

and  strive  to  realize.  As  your  knowledge  of  the 
subject  enlarges,  your  ideal  grows,  and  you  gain 
some  notion  of  how  to  go  about  to  become  an  ac- 
complished musician.  Your  vague  ideal  takes  on 
the  form  of  a  definite  plan  or  method  of  train- 
ing which  will  prepare  you  for  the  achievement 
of  your  desire.  This  is  the  side  of  the  predicate 
of  the  judgment.  Then  there  is  the  actual  pro- 
cess of  learning,  of  studying  and  practicing,  of 
striving  to  actualize  this  ideal  and  apply  this 
method.  This  is  the  copula,  the  bringing  of 
means  and  ends  together  and  realizing  the  end 
in  and  through  the  means.  The  copula  expresses 
the  movement  in  the  judgment  toward  the  new 
experience. 


CHAPTER  VI 
TRUTH 

§    21.   THE  TEST   OP  TRUTH 

The  ordinary  conception  of  the  test  of  truth 
regards  it  as  the  agreement  of  the  idea  with 
the  thing,  of  perception  with  the  object, 
of  knowledge  with  reality.  This  is  the  mon-sens* 
naive,  unreflective  view  of  common 
sense,  known  in  philosojjhy  as  the  representative 
or  copy  theory  of  knowledge.  As  Mr.  Baillie 
has  phrased  it,  truth  consists  in  the  agreement 
of  the  object-as-it-is-for-consciousness  with  the 
object-as-it-is-in-itself.  It  is  not  uncommon  to 
hear  even  men  of  science  declare  that  fact  is 
the  test  of  truth.  "  Here  are  the  facts.  There 
is  your  theory.  Test  your  theory  by  the  facts." 
But  it  is  obvious,  upon  reflection,  that  the  facts 
as  they  are  in  themselves  are  a  mere  abstraction. 
They  have  become  facts  only  in  the  process  of 
knowledge,  and  cannot  therefore  be  used  as  an 
external  test  of  the  validity  of  that  process. 
Moreover,  if  the  facts  are  there  before  us,  why 
should  we  trouble  to  judge  at  all?  What  more 


198         PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 

do  we  wisli  than  to  have  the  facts  ?  Why  think 
about  them  ?  The  truth  is  that  the  facts  are  not 
presented  to  knowledge ;  they  become  facts,  the 
facts,  in  and  by  the  act  of  knowing.  It  is  one 
of  the  fundamental  misapprehensions  of  the 
common-sense  and  uncritical  scientific  views  to 
suppose  that  the  fact  is  not  altered  in  becoming 
known.  In  one  aspect,  of  course,  this  is  true : 
facts  are  not  created  out  of  hand  nor  spun  out 
of  one's  inner  consciousness.  There  is  one  sense 
in  which  everything  is  given.  But  there  is  an- 
other, in  which  knowing  the  facts  is  just  the 
process  of  remaking  or  reconstituting  them.  If 
by  knowing  them  we  mean  anything  more  than 
mere  familiarity  with  them  and  practical  use  of 
them,  if  by  knowing  them  we  mean  really  think- 
ing about  them,  reflecting  upon  them,  then  cog- 
nition is  more  than  a  merely  revelatory  process, 
—  it  is  constitutive  and  determinative  of  their 
nature  as  facts.  This  truth  Mr.  Schiller  empha- 
sizes when  in  his  bold  way  he  insists  that  each 
individual  participates  in  the  evolution  of  re- 
ality. "Nothing  is  more  reasonable  than  to  sup- 
pose that  if  there  be  anything  personal  at  the 
bottom  of  things,  the  way  we  behave  to  it  must 
affect  the  way  it  behaves  to  us." 

The  fundamental  defect  of  the  representa- 


TRUTH  199 

tive  theory  is  its  assumption  of  an  independent 
reality  to  which  thought  is  supposed  TteRepre- 
to  correspond  in  a  passive  way,  know-  ^^lHylt 
ledge  being  a  more  or  less  faithful  ^"^ledge. 
transcript  of  its  nature.  In  the  attempt  to  es- 
cape the  dualism  of  this  view,  the  theory  of 
knowledge  has  swung  over  to  the  opposite  ex- 
treme of  idealism,  and  has  sought  to  find  the 
criterion  of  truth  in  terms  of  thought  alone. 
Formal  consistency,  or  internal  coherence  of  the 
system  of  ideas,  has  been  made  the  test.  It  must 
be  admitted  that  consistency,  so  far  as  it  goes, 
is  a  valid  test  of  truth.  But  an  air-castle  may 
be  internally  coherent.  The  mere  fact  of  the  in- 
ternal coherence  of  knowledge  already  achieved 
is  not  a  satisfactory  test  of  thinking  which  has 
a  prospective  reference :  it  must  be  judged  by 
its  success  in  achieving  what  it  sets  out  to  do. 
All  real  judgment  is  synthetic  :  the  predicate 
adds  something  to  the  subject.  No  amount  of 
inner  consistency  can  express  the  positive  ad- 
vance that  takes  place  in  an  instance  of  genuine 
thinking. 

No  idea  is  true  or  false  [as  Professor  Royce  says], 
except  with  reference  to  the  object  that  this  very 
idea  first  means  to  select  as  its  own  object.  .  .  . 
Is  the  correspondence  reached  between  idea  and  ob- 


200         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

ject  the  precise  correspondence  that  the  idea  itself 
intended  ?  If  it  is,  the  idea  is  true.  If  it  is  not,  the 
idea  is  in  so  far  false.  Thus  it  is  not  mere  agree- 
ment, but  intended  agreement,  that  constitutes  truth. 

This  idea  of  "  intended  agreement "  contains 
the  essence  of  the  functional  theory  of  know- 
The  ledge.    It  emphasizes  the  two  aspects 

?S°of  of  the  validation  of  the  knowledge- 
Knowiedge.  ppoccss :  truth  is  that  which  satisfies  a 
need,  and  truth  must  be  tested  by  its  results. 
It  emphasizes  the  organic  interdependence  of 
the  questions  of  genesis  and  validity,  process 
and  content,  needs  and  values.  It  is  a  protest 
against  the  search  for  that  impossible  thing  — 
knowledge  or  judgment  in  the  abstract.  Logic 
has  not  been  satisfied  to  be  what  it  was  in  its 
inception  —  the  generalized  method  of  experi- 
ence. It  has  sought  a  standard  of  truth  which 
should  be  eternal  and  absolutely  authoritative. 
Truth,  to  be  true,  it  said,  should  have  a  univer- 
sal meaning.  It  was  not  satisfied  with  this  or 
that  particular  truth,  truth  in  this  or  that  par- 
ticular situation ;  it  was  not  satisfied  with  truths : 
it  sought  truth  in  general  —  Truth  spelled  with 
a  capital.  But  this  is  to  take  from  logic  its  only 
possible  significance  for  the  progressive  devel- 
opment of  experience :  it  reduces  its  function  to 


TRUTH  201 

that  of  a  mere  mechanical  check  upon  the  ac- 
curacy of  knowledge  after  it  has  been  once 
worked  out.  Thinking  arose  originally  as  a 
kind  of  activity  to  which  man  resorted  in  time 
of  special  need,  and  this  is  still  the  function  of 
the  real  thinking  that  goes  on  in  science  and  in 
every-day  life.  Its  validity,  therefore,  must  be 
measured  by  its  success  in  dealing  effectively 
with  the  problems  presented  by  such  a  need. 

There  is  certainly  grave  danger  of  this  aspect 
of  pragmatism  being  distorted  into  a  false  doc- 
trine.  It  is  so   easy,  in  setting  forth  T^this 
the  view,  to  fall  into  modes  of  state-  I^f,\T^*!* 

'  sausiles  a 

ment  which  assign  a  causal  efficiency  ''"'^• 
to  these  practical  needs  or  demands.  The  critics 
have  not  been  slow  in  finding  such  vulnerable 
points  in  the  pragmatist's  armor.  Needs,  as  they 
point  out,  do  not  explain  anything.  They  them- 
selves require  to  be  explained.  The  tension, 
the  struggle,  the  difficulty,  the  problem,  is  not 
the  "  cause  "  of  the  consciousness  which  it  is 
said  to  call  forth.  Such  au  expression  is  only  a 
figure  of  speech.  Tension  in  adjustment,  re- 
construction of  activity,  is  consciousness.  The 
need  is  not  an  external  thing,  which  compels  us 
from  without :  it  is  itself  a  development  within 
experience.   Need  is  the  experience  regarded  as 


202         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

inadequate  and  therefore  objectified  as  stimulus 
over  asrainst  the  self  which  for  the  moment  is 
identified  with  the  response.  But  the  need  is 
just  as  much  mine  as  the  deed. 

It  is  implied  in  what  has  been  said  that  the 
validity  of  a  knowledge-experience  must  rest 
Truth  Is  ultimately  on  its  results.  The  criterion 
•'"wo^s"'^  of  truth  is  to  be  found  in  the  relevancy 
toaPM-'^  of  the  thinking,  not  only  to  the  needs 
pose  or  End.  which  Called  it  forth,  but  also  to  the 
ends  to  which  it  is  directed,  which  are  a  projec- 
tion of  those  needs.  The  essence  of  a  criterion 
lies  in  its  applicability  to  practical  problems  — 
using  the  term  "practical"  in  the  wide  sense, 
to  include  all  the  non-logical  modes  of  ex- 
perience. It  must  have  the  capacity  for  mea- 
suring the  real  values  of  life  and  for  guiding 
conduct  in  the  attempt  to  realize  these  values. 
The  test  of  a  standard  is  to  be  found  in  its 
serviceability  under  a  variety  of  conditions.  If 
it  is  not  capable  of  concrete  application  to 
these  conditions,  it  betrays  its  imperfect  de- 
velopment as  a  standard:  there  is  still  lack- 
ing that  unifying  function  of  thought  which 
brings  all  parts  of  experience  to  bear  on  the 
particular  case.  "  There  is  no  other  test  of  a 
theory  than  this,  its  ability  to  work,  to  organ- 


TRUTH  203 

ize  'facts '  into  itself  as  specifications  of  its  own 
nature."  (Dewey.) 

But  this  likewise  must  not  be  interpreted  in 
a  sense  which  makes  the  results  external  to  the 
process  of  thought.  If  the  truth  be  one  y^^^^^  jn^. 
thing  and  the  practical  consequences  Neeas'ani* 
a  wholly  different  thing,  then  pragma-  Jesuits. 
tism  is  not  true.  But  if  having  practical  con- 
sequences is  necessary  to  constitute  truth,  if 
practical  outcome  in  action  or  in  some  other 
immediate  form  of  experience,  such  as  feeling, 
is  necessary  to  fulfill  it  even  as  thinking,  then 
there  is  reason  in  a  doctrine  which  holds  that 
"  the  truth  of  any  statement  C07isists  in  its  con- 
sequences." (James.)  Need  and  supply,  stim- 
ulus and  response,  conditions  and  results,  are 
ways  of  stating  the  same  process  from  different 
points  of  view. 

Every  idea  must  be  judged  by  its  own  specific 
purpose  as  an  idea.  Ideas,  as  Professor  Royce 
says,  "  are  like  tools.  They  are  there  ^here  is  no 
for  an  end.  They  are  true  as  the  tools  J'^iy^'  *"^* 
are  good,  precisely  by  reason  of  their  ''^'^"^^■ 
adjustment  to  this  end."  —  "Is  a  razor  a  better 
or  a  worse  tool  than  a  hammer?"  The  question 
has  no  meaning,  asked  in  this  abstract  form. 
There  is  no  purely  abstract  standard.    There 


204         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

is  no  final  and  infallible  criterion  of  truth.  It 
is  final  or  satisfactory  only  with  reference  to 
the  particular  problem.  It  is  final  in  the  sense 
that,  if  successful,  it  disposes  of  the  specific  difS.- 
culty;  this  particular  readjustment  does  not  have 
to  be  made  again.  A  statement  is  true  in  a  given 
case,  for  a  given  purpose,  or  at  a  gi^^en  stage  of 
experience.  Truth  itself  is  a  growth,  changing 
from  situation  to  situation.  This  is  not  to  say 
that  there  is  no  stability,  no  continuity.  But  it 
does  assert  that  the  principle  of  continuity  in 
experience  is  not  some  unchanging  ajjriori  law, 
some  so-called  first  truth,  determining  thought 
from  without.  Truth  involves  interaction  of 
means  and  ends,  and  since  experience  is  an  ever- 
expanding  activity,  the  standard  of  what  is  true 
or  adequate  grows  with  this  expanding  life.  It 
is  not  a  question  of  truth  but  of  truths,  not  of 
validity  but  of  specific  validities.  There  is  no 
single  criterion  of  truth  because  there  is  no  sin- 
gle truth.  For  this  reason  truth,  like  virtue,  is 
always  a  compromise :  it  is  the  organization  of 
all  the  factors  of  the  situation,  no  matter  how 
recalcitrant  they  may  at  first  appear  to  be.  Error 
is  not  removed  by  denying  it :  it  disappears  only 
in  being  transformed  into  truth  by  being  put 
into  its  proper  place  in  relation  to  other  partial 


TRUTH  205 

truths.  This  is  mere  empiricism,  says  the  abso- 
lutist—  and  turns  to  the  contemplation  of  his 
eternal  verities!  A  naive  and  crude  relativism, 
says  the  formal  metaphysician  —  quite  too  use- 
ful to  be  true  !  But  to  what  a  pass  has  philosophy 
come  when  the  primary  evidence  of  experience 
is  despised  !  Is  it  because  truth  is  so  simple  and 
so  easily  understood,  when  clearly  stated,  that 
it  must  be  cast  out  of  the  realm  of  metaphysics  ? 
Has  not  human  knowledge  protested  against  the 
tortuous  evasions  of  its  professional  purveyors 
from  the  very  beginning  ?  Shall  it  not  stand 
forth  in  its  simplicity  and  forcefulness,  shake 
off  the  fetters  of  a  false  in tellectualism,  and  pro- 
claim its  primal  birthright  and  destiny  ? 

The  criterion  is  the  habit  brought  to  conscious- 
ness. The  most  comprehensive  habit  or  system  of 
habits,  taking  form  in  consciousness  as  an  image 
or  idea,  is  the  ultimate  standard.  Primi-  Thecnte- 
tive  peoples  and  children  have  no  crite-  Hawf  ^* 
rion :  they  act  on  impulse.  There  is  little  JonSus"- 
or  no  reflection  or  prospection.    But  in  "^*- 
the  reflective  consciousness  the  conflict  of  habits 
produces  the  image  or  idea  which  becomes  an 
ideal  or  standard,  a  guide  or  norm.  An  ideal  is 
ordinarily  thought  of  as  having  reference  to  an 
act  which  is  yet  to  be  performed,  while  a  stand- 


206         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

ard  is  regarded  as  the  test  of  acts  that  have 
already  taken  place.  But  in  the  larger  sense, 
which  embraces  the  reference  forward  and  back- 
ward, the  standard  is  only  the  generalized  ideal, 
while  the  ideal  is  the  specific  definition  of  the 
standard.  As  Professor  Dewey  says, "  If  we  look 
at  the  whole  activity  as  that  which  the  agent  is 
urging  towards  in  every  act,  it  is  ideal ;  if  we 
look  at  it  as  really  deciding  the  nature  and  value 
of  the  act,  it  is  criterion." 

The  criterion  represents  the  emerging  into 
efficacy  in  consciousness,  of  the  habit  most  fun- 
damental and  relevant  under  the  cir- 

Themost 

Funda-        cumstanccs.  As  directive,  the  criterion 

mental 

Hawtbe-  is  the  image,  idea,  or  ideal — the  habit 
Diiecuve  underpfoiup;  reconstruction.  The  sfener- 
Evaluative  alizcd  habit,  looked  upon  as  a  goal  to 
be  reached,  is  the  ideal.  As  evaluative, 
the  criterion  is  the  ima2:e  or  idea  used  as  a 
standard  or  test  of  values.  The  standard  is  not, 
however,  an  external  point  of  reference,  but 
rather  a  principle  of  method.  An  ideal  is  not  a 
realm  of  experience  different  from  actual  expe- 
rience; it  is  experience  in  process  of  mediation. 
The  truth  is  that  we  recognize  the  criterion  as 
criterion  only  when  we  cease  relatively  to  use  it 
as  such,  and  then  it  has  ceased  to  be  anything 


TRUTH  207 

merely  present :  we  have  projected  it  into  the 
past  or  future.  When  we  are  directly  engaged 
in  applying  standards  and  in  actualizing  ideals, 
we  do  not  stop  to  think  of  them  as  standards 
or  as  ideals :  they  are  merged  in  the  experience 
itself,  they  are  at  work  —  not  primping  before 
the  mirror  of  introspection.  A  criterion  stands 
out  separately  as  such  only  when  it  ceases  for 
the  time  being  to  be  actually  used  and  is  made, 
instead,  the  object  of  thought.  If  it  does  not 
suffice  to  solve  the  problem  which  the  difficulty 
presents,  attention  is  directed  to  it.  It  is  in  the 
reconstruction  of  criteria  that  criteria  arise.  We 
reflect  on  our  past  modes  of  action,  and  thought 
is  directed  to  their  modification  with  reference 
to  more  effective  future  action.  This  conception 
of  more  effective  action  we  set  up  as  the  ideal. 
In  other  words,  the  criterion  arises  only  when 
we  have  reason  for  doubting,  for  criticising,  and 
for  reconstructing  values  which  have  been  pre- 
viously taken  for  granted.  It  is  developed  at 
the  point  where  these  values  prove  inadequate 
to  meet  the  situation.  Present  experience  falls 
apart  into  past  and  future,  into  habit  and  ideal, 
and  in  the  event  of  a  past  habitual  line  of  activ- 
ity failing  to  resolve  the  problem,  some  idealized 
end  or  aim  becomes  the  standard  of  evaluation. 


208         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

From  what  has  been  said  it  would  seem  that 
there  is  no  fixity,  no  permanence,  no  stahihty, 
The  Chang-  ^^  *'^^  Criterion.  It  varies  not  only  from 
twoisuch"  iiidividual  to  individual  according  to 
a  Criterion,  their  different  types  of  experience,  but 
from  moment  to  moment  according  to  the  di- 
versity of  the  individual's  interests.  If  judgment 
is  the  act  of  hypothesizing  in  the  presence  of  an 
obstacle,  a  process  which  is  ever  being  renewed 
because  of  fresh  difficulties,  then  the  criterion, 
which  is  simply  the  judgment  in  its  aspect  as 
reorganizing  experience,  must  likewise  undergo 
alteration  from  situation  to  situation.  Every 
judgment  involves,  at  least  implicitly,  that  my 
present  criterion  is  judged  true  or  false,  right 
or  wrong,  in  comparison  with  one  still  more 
comprehensive.  The  shifting  character  of  ideals 
and  standards  of  conduct  is  a  matter  of  common 
observation. 

The  question,  however,  is  not  whether  a  cri- 
terion is  to  be  wholly  fixed  or  wholly  unstable. 
Such  a  question  would  involve  an  ab- 

The  Ele- 

ment  oi       surditv,  f or  fixity  and  chansreableness 

stability.        ,  •       •£  1       •  1    ^• 

nave  signmcance  only  m  relation  to 
each  other.  The  question  is  rather  in  what  sense 
and  to  what  extent  a  criterion  may  be  fixed,  in 
what  sense  and  to  what  extent  it  may  be  chang- 


TRUTH  209 

ing.  Our  examination  of  the  criterion  as  a  phase 
of  the  judgment  has  brought  into  prominence 
its  developing  character.  But  this  very  process 
implies  also  that  it  shall  be  in  some  sense  stable 
and  permanent — we  do  not  say  fixed,  because 
this  implies  a  state  incompatible  with  change. 
It  is  impossible,  in  the  development  of  various 
hypothetical  solutions  for  the  problem,  that  we 
should  hit  upon  an  hypothesis  which  is  entirely 
unrelated  to  our  previous  experience.  The 
process  of  judging  consists  in  the  selection  of 
the  hypothesis  which  will  be  at  once  suggestive 
in  the  new  situation  and  cono-ruous  with  our 
previous  experience.  This  congruity  is  the  ele- 
ment of  stability.  A  criterion  must  always  have 
a  certain  degree  of  permanence.  If  experience 
is  to  be  experience  at  all,  it  must  be  a  continu- 
ous identity  in  difference,  a  permanence  in  the 
midst  of  change.  There  is  a  unity  and  continuity 
of  function.  The  criterion  serves  always  the 
same  general  purpose,  that  of  control.  It  would 
be  a  mistake  to  assume,  because  there  is  no  ob- 
jective standard  in  the  sense  of  a  fixed  eternal 
law,  that  there  is  no  objectivity  or  permanence 
whatsoever.  The  objectivity  comes  from  just 
that  congruity  and  relevancy  which  makes  ex- 
perience an  intelligible  whole. 


210         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

It  may  be  said  that  the  permanence  or  relative 
stability  of  the  standard  is  for  the  sake  of  greater 
range  and  flexibility  in  its  use.  In  the 
ment  oi  most  commoD  use  of  the  word,  a  "  cri- 
terion" is  conceived  in  static  terms  as 
something  complete  and  final,  a  finished  product, 
rather  than  a  present  process  in  experience.  It 
is  thought  of  as  something  immutable,  by  which 
to  check  and  control  the  diverse  and  changing 
current  of  life ;  and  the  inevitable  result  of  this 
petrifaction  of  a  part  of  experience  is  that  it  be- 
comes projected  out  of  the  central  current  and 
set  up  as  absolute.  This  split-off  portion  is  then 
used  to  evaluate  the  rest  of  experience,  as  a 
man  mig-htcut  a  branch  from  a  tree  to  measure 
the  length  of  its  trunk.  This  partial  aspect  is 
usually  individual  and  subjective  in  character. 
But  just  as  the  branch  is  not  an  adequate  mea- 
sure of  the  tree  until  it  has  been  itself  subjected 
to  some  other  generally  recognized  standard, 
and  as  even  this  standard  by  which  it  is  corrected 
varies  from  aofe  to  aofe  and  from  civilization  to 
civilization,  so  this  merely  subjective  standard 
of  the  individual^  in  a  social  environment,  must 
constantly  be  revised  to  be  of  greatest  service. 
The  way  in  which  the  social  sanction  influences 
the  criterion,  and  the  criterion  then  reacts  into 


TRUTH  211 

the  social  sanction,  is  seen  in  the  recurrent  fads 
of  fashion.  Some  representative  individual  dis- 
plays a  new  form  of  neckwear,  and  the  unreflec- 
tive  many  copy  it.  Some  vulgar  caricature  of 
this  reacts  on  the  aristocracy  of  dress,  and  again 
some  original,  and  at  the  same  time  representa- 
tive, individual  suggests  a  new  form  for  the 
fashion-plates.  But  the  fad  is  never  wholly  new. 
A  close  analysis  discloses  a  continuity  of  devel- 
opment. The  apparently  unique  origin  of  the 
new  is  really  but  a  modified  reflection  of  an  old 
social  habit. 

§    22.   THE   PRINCIPLE   OF  RELEVANCY 

This  dynamic  nature  of  the  criterion  has  been 
pithily  expressed  by  the  statement,  "  It 's  true 
if  it  works."  This  phrase  may  be  per- 
mitted  II  we  put  the  right  meaning 
into  "  works."  In  one  aspect,  as  we  have  seen,  the 
test  of  truth  is  whether  or  not  it  furnishes  an 
adequate  basis  for  action.  Truth  means  control. 
That  knowledge  is  true  which  gives  order  and 
direction  to  further  experience.  The  test  of 
truth  is  not  in  the  judging  itself  as  a  thinking 
process,  but  in  the  act  or  in  some  other  mode 
of  experience  which  transcends  thought.  In  an- 
other aspect,  however,  a  judgment  is  true  or 


212         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

false  only  in  the  light  of  subsequent  judgments. 
Here  is  the  truth  and  also  the  limitation  of  prag- 
matism. The  doctrine  rightly  insists  that  a  judg- 
ment is  true  or  false  only  if  it  serves  the  specific 
purpose  which  called  it  forth,  only  if  it  mediates 
the  value  called  for  by  the  idea.  But  the  mere 
ideomotor  nature  of  thought  does  not  carry  with 
it  the  character  of  truth  or  falsity.  A  judgment 
does  not  become  true  simply  by  coming  to  an 
end  as  judgment  and  entering  into  an  act  or 
state  of  feeling.  Truth  or  falsity  involves  com- 
parison of  two  or  more  judgments.  A  judgment 
becomes  true  or  false  only  when  reflectively 
scrutinized  and  evaluated  from  the  standpoint 
of  a  new  judgment.  There  is  no  necessary  in- 
consistency, however,  between  this  statement 
and  that  of  the  pragmatist.  The  function  of 
judgment  is  to  mediate  something  which  is  not 
judgment.  But  a  judgment  which  literally  and 
completely  ends  in  an  act  is  no  longer  a  logical 
process ;  hence  there  can  be  no  question  for  the 
time  being  of  its  validity.  For  such  a  judgment 
to  be  true,  it  must  either  have  mediated  further 
thinking  or  have  been  resuscitated  after  the  act 
has  been  performed.  Probably  the  former  is  the 
more  familiar  experience,  since  our  problems 
grow  one  within  another  in  an  organic  way  and 


TRUTH  213 

are  not,  as  a  rule,  chopped  off  short  by  final 
solutions.  The  test  of  the  truth  of  an  experience, 
therefore,  is  whether  it  enables  us  to  move  on 
to  further  experience.  Truth  means  value  for 
determining  further  values.  The  next  expe- 
rience to  which  it  leads  may  be  cognitive  as  well 
as  affective  or  motor,  but  in  that  case  it  is 
thinking  in  its  immediate,  not  in  its  mediative 
aspect,  which  supervenes,  while  this  in  turn 
develops  a  mediative  function  when  it  is  used 
to  evaluate  the  logical  process  which  led  up  to 
it.  In  this  sense  we  may  adopt  the  phrase  of 
the  formal  logicians  and  say  that  the  validity 
of  thought  lies  in  its  reference. 

The  pragmatic  criterion  is  the  principle  of 
relevancy.  Utilitarianism  illustrates  its  applica- 
tion on  the  practical  side ;  sestheticism, 
on  the  emotional  side.  On  the  intellect- 
ual side,  relevancy  is  but  another  name  for  the 
functional  distinction  of  means  and  ends.  There 
are  no  fixed  ends  or  means.  Any  phase  of  ex- 
perience may,  under  relevant  conditions,  become 
means  or  end  to  any  other  phase.  In  the  given 
situation  the  end  is  relatively  constant,  the 
means  variable;  but  when  the  end  varies  beyond 
a  certain  point,  we  say  that  the  situation  has 
shifted.  Ends  express  the  purposes,  values,  uses 


214         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

of  experience;  means  are  the  tools,  instruments, 
machinery  of  progressive  achievement  of  these 
ends.  This  is  an  age  of  emphasis  upon  means 
rather  than  upon  ends,  methods  rather  than  val- 
ues, machinery  rather  than  humanity.  A  man 
of  wealth  is  called  a  man  of  means  because  he 
is  well  provided  with  those  things  which  will 
minister  to  his  needs  and  wants.  On  the  other 
hand,  a  man  of  judicial  mind,  the  man  whose 
judgments  are  reHable,  is  the  man  who  has  ac- 
quired the  habit  of  estimating  things  in  a  rele- 
vant scale  of  ends  or  values.  An  end  is  always 
something  that  we  have  not,  but  desire  to  pos- 
sess, something  which  is  taken  as  sufficiently 
dependable  to  warrant  our  instituting  an  attempt 
to  attain  it.  Our  interest  in  the  steps  necessary 
to  secure  it  gives  us  the  statement  of  the  means. 
Relevancy  is  the  determining  principle.  If  I  am 
out  hunting,  my  interest  is  not  the  living  rab- 
bit but  the  dead  rabbit,  the  possibility  of  a  rab- 
bit-stew. My  end  might  conceivably  be  a  live 
rabbit  in  a  cage  for  my  children  to  play  with. 
But  the  end  is  always  determined  by  my  needs 
or  interests.  The  means,  on  the  other  hand, 
take  form  with  reference  to  the  end.  We  dis- 
tinguish the  various  factors  or  conditions  re- 
quisite to  carry  out  a  given   course  of  action. 


TRUTH  21 


f? 


We  unify  this  variety  of  elements  with  reference 
to  the  purpose  in  view.  The  whole  logic  of 
experience  consists  in  stating  the  technique  by 
which  we  break  up  a  situation  into  its  diverse 
factors,  and  recombine  them  functionally  with 
reference  to  some  projected  value  as  an  ideal. 
When  the  situation  is  stated  in  terms  of  means, 
we  emphasize  its  continuity ;  when  it  is  stated 
in  terms  of  ends,  we  emphasize  its  discreteness. 
Since  means  and  ends  are  strictly  correlative, 
these  principles  mutually  presuppose  each  other. 
Means  are  means  only  because  they  serve  to 
realize  ends,  and  ends  are  ends  only  as  they  em- 
ploy instrumentalities  or  agencies.  Keality  not 
only  admits,  but  demands,  both  a  mechanical 
and  a  teleological  explanation.  The  great  fal- 
lacy of  naturalistic  and  agnostic  science  is  that 
of  mistaking  the  means  which  it  has  elaborated 
for  the  ends  to  which,  in  the  last  analysis,  they 
are  relevant.  The  great  fallacy  of  transcenden- 
tal and  speculative  philosophy  is  that  it  fails 
to  recognize  that  the  means  are  organized  into 
the  ends,  that  the  values  come  to  be  restated  in 
terms  of  the  instrumentalities  by  which  they  are 
evolved. 

But  truth,  besides   being  a  matter   of  logi- 
cal consistency  and  practical  utility,  includes  a 


216  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

reference  to  the  emotional  and  social  conditions. 
Truth  is  a  form  of  value  :  its  value  lies 
in  its  ability  to  mediate  other  values. 
This  was  expressed  in  a  striking  way  by  Hume 
when  he  said  :  "  Reason  is,  and  ought  only  to 
be,  the  slave  of  the  passions,  and  can  never  pre- 
tend to  any  other  office  than  to  serve  and  obey 
them."  Perfect  knowledge,  as  Professor  Dewey 
says, 

is  not  knowledge  (in  its  intellectual  or  logical  conno- 
tation) at  all,  but  such  a  thing  as  religionists  and  prac- 
tical people  have  in  mind ;  an  attitude  of  possession 
and  satisfaction  —  the  peace  that  passes  understand- 
ing. .  .  .  Knowledge,  in  the  strict  or  logical  sense, 
mediates  .  .  .  immediate  valences  or  worths ;  and, 
when  it  has  completely  wrought  out  a  certain  equiva- 
lence, finds  its  own  surcease  in  a  new  value,  expres- 
sive of  a  new  aesthetic-moral  attitude. 

Knowledge  is  of  two  sorts :  the  immediate 
acquaintance  with,  or  knowledge  of,  a  situation, 
knowledge  in  the  sense  of  familiarity,  and  know- 
ledge about  the  situation,  or  what  is  called  vali- 
dated or  certified  knowledge.  The  latter  is  usu- 
ally an  instrument  for  securing  the  former.  In 
its  primitive  unsophisticated  form,  knowledge 
is  saturated  with  emotional  and  social  values.  It 
is  only  with  the  advance  of  scientific  and  reflee- 


TRUTH  217 

tive  thought,  with  its  attempt  to  eliminate  the 
personal  equation,  that  this  aspect  has  been  ig- 
nored. But  it  is  an  error  to  identify  knowledge 
with  either  the  primitive  or  scientific  stage,  since 
the  characteristics  of  each  are  essential  to  com- 
plete the  other.  Knowledge  as  the  immediate 
total  appreciation  of  a  situation  is  dependent 
upon  past  processes  of  intellectual  analysis,  while 
knowledge  as  critical  validation  is  for  the  sake 
of  more  effective  appreciation  when  the  possi- 
bility of  deliberative  analysis  is  precluded. 

There  are  degrees  of  assurance  or  validation 
in  judgments.  That  is,  there  are  degrees  in  the 
extent  to  which  the  personal  and  emo- 

A        _      _  Acanles- 

tional  element  may  be  eliminated.  One  c«°ce  and 
judgment  is  felt  to  have  more  objec- 
tive truth  than  another,  to  carry  with  it  a  certain 
necessity,  universality,  and  self-evidence  which 
another  lacks.  Judgments  which  express  the 
least  and  the  most  assurance,  respectively.  Pro- 
fessor Dewey  has  called  judgments  of  acquies- 
cence and  judgments  of  imperative.  Of  course, 
all  our  experiences  are  inevitable  in  one  sense, 
while  in  another  sense  they  are  free  determina- 
tions. When  the  act  of  judging  is  at  the  mini- 
mum and  the  content  most  resistant,  we  have 
acquiescence ;    when    the  content  is    least  re- 


218         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

sistant  and  thought  most  spontaneously  active, 
we  have  the  imperative.  These  are  limits  be- 
tween which  all  thought  moves  —  the  attitude 
of  assent  and  the  attitude  of  command,  expressed 
in  the  indicative  and  imperative  moods  of  the 
verb.  If  I  say,  "  I  see  a  hat,"  the  object  seems 
to  force  itself  upon  me :  to  all  appearances 
thought  is  passive.  I  cannot  help  seeing  it  if  I 
open  my  eyes.  This  is  not  strictly  true,  of  course. 
Thought  is  not  purely  passive  even  here.  The 
baby  does  not  see  the  object  as  a  hat.  It  is  just 
thought  which  makes  the  difference  between 
what  the  child  and  what  the  adult  sees  in  a  thing. 
Even  in  the  case  of  a  clap  of  thunder,  where  it 
would  seem  as  if  the  experience  were  forced  upon 
us,  thought  makes  a  difference.  The  hysterical 
woman  reacts  in  a  different  way  from  the  strong 
man.  But  if  I  say,  "  It  is  seven  o'clock  and  I 
will  arise,"  we  have  an  entirely  different  sort  of 
experience.  I  feel  that  I  do  not  have  to  get  up 
unless  I  wish  to.  The  judgment  seems  to  involve 
an  active  participation  in  and  determination  of 
the  result.  Volition  is  the  typical  form  of  this 
kind  of  judgment.  Instead  of  the  content  deter- 
mining the  thinking  process,  the  latter  appears 
to  determine  the  former.  Here,  too,  the  state- 
ment must  not  be  taken  absolutely,  however, 


TRUTH  219 

since  even  so-called  free  activity  must  observe 
conditions.  There  are  no  pure  judgments  of  ac- 
quiescence and  no  pure  judgments  of  impera- 
tive :  the  former  would  mean  impotence,  the  latter 
omnipotence.  A  pure  judgment  of  acquiescence 
would  not  be  a  judgment  at  all,  but  an  act  of 
obedience,  subjection  to  authority.  But  the  mo- 
ment doubt  and  reflection  begin,  the  imperative 
element  enters,  and  according  to  the  success 
of  the  mediation  we  get  the  different  degrees 
of  modality  in  our  knowledge — belief,  convic- 
tion, certitude.  Arrest  of  the  imperative  gives 
us  the  optative  mood,  judgments  of  wish  or  de- 
sire, the  basis  of  the  aesthetic  judgment,  or,  in 
extreme  form,  the  ethical  judgment  of"  ought." 
The  emotional  factor,  in  other  words,  falls  be- 
tween the  limits  of  acquiescence  and  impera- 
tive, and  marks  the  different  stages  of  the 
mediative  or  reconstructive  process  in  which 
experience  is  moving  on  to  new  values. 

§  23.     THE   PROBLEM    OF    AUTHORITY 

J  The  history  of  thought  has  witnessed  the 
development  of  two  types  of  theory  as  to  the 
character  of  the  criterion.  These  may  be  called 
the  transcendental  and  immanental.  The  tran- 
scendental theory  looks  upon  the  criterion  as 


220  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

external  and  absolute.  The  immanental  looks 
Transcen-  upon  it  as  internal  and  relative.  The 
tomSimL  liistorical  growth  has  been  from  the  ex- 
Theories.  temaHsm  and  absolutism  of  Ancient 
and  Mediaeval,  to  the  internalism  and  relativism 
of  modern  thouoht.  The  chief  characteristic  of 
the  earlier  view  was  invariably  to  put  the  crite- 
rion outside  the  self  and  make  it  absolute,  while 
the  tendency  of  the  later  view  is  either  to  deny 
the  existence  and  necessity  of  any  standard 
whatever  or  to  find  it  within  experience  itself. 
The  best  illustrations  of  the  first  type  of 
theory  are  to  be  found  in  the  political  and 
Imperial-  ccclesiastical  history  of  the  Ancient 
*^™"  and  Mediaeval  periods,  where  a  civil  or 

religious  organization  embodied  the  standard. 
The  political  illustration  may  be  called  impe- 
rialism. According  to  this  conception,  the  high- 
est authority  was  the  State.  The  intellectual, 
the  moral,  the  religious,  as  well  as  the  secular 
life  of  the  individual,  was  under  the  absolute 
control  of  the  chief  ruler  in  civil  affairs.  This 
conception  prevailed  in  the  Oriental  and  Graeco- , 
Roman  civilizations.  In  the  Orient  the  will  of 
a  despot  was  the  only  conscience  of  the  indi- 
vidual, or  the  criterion  was  one  of  custom  and 
habit,  a  conventional  obedience  to  externally 


TRUTH  221 

imposed  obligations  without  reflective  insight 
into  their  significance  as  standards.  In  this 
sense,  it  may  be  said  that  the  criterion  had  not 
yet  become  external.  Nor  was  it  internal.  It 
was  the  undifferentiated  matrix  out  of  which 
were  to  develop  later  more  conscious  state- 
ments, which  first  took  the  transcendental  form. 
Greek  thought  emphasized  the  universal  factor 
in  experience,  thereby  sowing  the  seeds  which 
sprang  up  later  in  the  abstracting  and  hyposta- 
sizing  of  that  factor  as  something  external  and 
absolute.  Early  forms  of  Christianity,  in  their 
extreme  emphasis  on  the  opposite  principle  of 
individualism,  aided  in  the  growth  of  the  tran- 
scendental conception,  since  the  more  the  ab- 
stract particular  became  emphasized,  the  greater 
appeared  the  chasm  between  it  and  the  abstract 
universal.  With  the  dawning  of  a  reflective 
self-consciousness  this  universal,  on  the  one 
hand,  was  projected  outward  in  the  form  of  an 
external  and  fixed  objective  world,  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  abstract  individuality  of  expe- 
rience became  in  like  manner  internalized  as 
the  subjective  psyche.  The  State,  as  the  part 
of  this  external  world  which  most  immediately 
reirulated  the  actions  of  men,  was  the  first  to 
become  exteriorized  as  an  ultimate  authority. 


222         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

In  spite  of  the  great  strides  toward  the  subjec- 
tive attitude  which  reflective  thought  made  in 
Plato  and  Aristotle,  these  great  thinkers  practi- 
cally identified  the  life  of  the  individual  with 
that  of  the  State.  It  is  only  with  the  beginnings 
of  Christianity  that  we  have  the  first  distinctive 
contribution  to  the  rights  of  the  individual. 

The  transcendental  conception  of  authority, 
on  the  religious  side,  takes  the  form  of  ecclesi- 
^  ,  ,  .,    asticism.    Here  the  State  as  well  as  the 

Eccleslastl- 

cism.  individual,  in  theory  at  least,  is  made 

subordinate  to  the  rule  of  a  religious  society. 
Not  that  this  was  the  case  at  first.  The  Church 
did  not  immediately  develop  an  exclusive  claim 
to  authority.  But  this  marks  its  historical 
trend  and  outcome.  From  the  first  claim  to 
papal  primacy  by  the  Bishop  of  Rome  in  the 
early  centuries,  to  the  recent  decrees  of  the 
Vatican  Council  asserting  the  official  infalli- 
bility of  the  Pope,  the  Roman  hierarchy  has 
attempted  to  elevate  an  ecclesiastical  institution 
above  not  only  its  own  original  purpose,  but 
above  all  aspirants  to  any  degree  of  authority. 
The  State  has  been  constantly  threatened  by 
its  power.  Individual  reason  and  conscience 
have  been  ruthlessly  sacrificed  to  its  absolute 
supremacy.    The  right  of  private  interpretation 


TRUTH  223 

of  the  Christian  Scriptures  has  been  trampled 
upon.  In  this  movement  the  principle  of  sub- 
jectivity has  taken  its  first  great  step  toward 
that  individualism  which  in  its  extreme  form 
was'  not  developed  until  the  period  of  enlight- 
enment in  the  modern  era.  The  individual,  in 
principle,  has  emancipated  himself  from  the 
State.  But  this  freedom  is  turned  into  a  new 
slavery — a  slavery  to  the  Church.  The  mod- 
ern idea  of  freedom  was  not  there,  or  only  its 
dim  adumbration.  Thus,  when  the  State  was 
forced  gradually  to  yield  its  absolute  claims 
upon  the  individual,  the  latter  was  not  yet 
ready  to  recognize  and  use  his  freedom.  The 
criterion  was  still  conceived  as  external  and 
transcendent,  except  that  it  was  transferred  to 
the  religious  in  place  of  the  political  institu- 
tion. Significant,  however,  of  the  advance  of 
individualism  was  the  bitter  strife  between  the 
State  and  Church  which  marked  the  whole  of 
this  period  j  for  when  abstract  universals  come 
thus  into  opposition,  they  cease  to  be  true  uni- 
versals and  become  particulars.  The  failure  of 
ecclesiasticism  to  win  universal  sovereignty  was 
not  because  of  any  lack  of  definite  aim  or  bold 
intent,  but  because  it  had  to  contend  with  an- 
other, its  equal,  the  temporal  or  civil  power. 


224         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

While  these  wasted  their  strength  in  a  pro- 
longed conflict  as  to  which  should  have  univer- 
sal  dominion,  the  individual  stepped  to  the 
front,  and  in  the  name  of  free  speech,  free 
thought,  and  free  conscience  claimed  fbr  a 
democratic  civilization  the  prize  which  was  the 
bone  of  contention.  Christianity  had  in  it  the 
germ  of  those  principles  of  democracy  and  re- 
liofious  tolerance  which  characterize  the  modern 
era ;  but  these  seeds  of  individualism  were 
oblisred  to  lie  dormant  for  centuries  under  the 
tyranny  of  an  intolerant  priestcraft. 

One  aspect  of  the  externahsm  and  absolutism 

of  this  period  is  what  may  be  called  the  bibli- 

olatry  or  literalism  of  the  Church,  in 

Literalism.        ,.11  p     1  •    1  i        • 

which  the  seat  01  highest  authority 
was  made  a  book  or  a  creed.  This  is  charac- 
teristic not  only  of  Romanism  but  of  post-Re- 
formation Protestantism.  The  employment  of 
a  creed  as  the  test  of  truth  is  the  offspring  of 
an  illegitimate  use  of  the  Hebrew  and  Christian 
Scriptures,  due  to  false  conceptions  of  the  na- 
ture and  extent  of  their  authority.  The  Bible 
was  subordinated  to  the  Church  during  the 
Middle  Ages,  under  the  influence  of  Roman 
sacerdotalism.  It  was  revived,  however,  by  the 
precursors   of    the   Protestant  revolution,  and 


TRUTH  225 

later  became  what  is  known  as  the  "  formal  prin- 
ciple "  of  the  Reformation.  Naturally,  perhaps, 
but  none  the  less  disastrously,  the  Protestant 
body  transferred  to  the  Bible  the  exclusive  idea 
of  infallibility.  Not  until  the  seeds  of  skepti- 
cism had  been  sown  far  and  wide  did  a  more 
moderate  Protestantism  break  away  from  this 
post- Reformation  dogma  of  the  infallibility  of 
a  book  and  assert  a  more  rational  doctrine. 

This  marks  roughly  the  end  of  the  objective 
era,  or  period  of  the  exclusive  reign  of  the  tran- 
scendental conception  of  the  nature  of  immanentai 
the  criterion,  and  the  beginning  of  the  ''^^^o^"- 
subjective  era,  or  period  of  the  conception  of 
the  criterion  as  immanent.  It  is  in  this  tran- 
sition from  externalism  and  absolutism  to  in- 
ternalism  and  relativism  that  the  idea  of  the 
external  authority  of  tradition  gradually  gives 
place  to  the  idea  of  reason  as  an  internal  cri- 
terion. Of  course  these  movements  overlap. 
What  is  here  outlined  is  merely  the  trend  in 
the  o-rowth  of  the  idea.  But  in  this  sense  the 
immanental  conception  is  essentially  modern.  It 
is  represented  by  rationalism  and  mysticism,  in 
one  sense  antithetic,  but  both,  in  another  sense, 
manifestations  of  the  same  reaction  against  the 
transcendental  conception.  These  theories  place 


226         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

the  standard  in  the  self  or  individual  experi- 
ence. 

Rationalism  is  a  rebound,  on  the  one  side, 
from  the  externalism  and  absolutism  of  which 
Rational-  ^®  havo  been  speaking,  and,  on  the 
*^™  other,  from   the  mysticism    of  which 

we  still  have  to  speak.  The  essence  of  ration- 
alism is  exclusive  reliance  upon  the  intellectual 
or  logical  faculty.  In  its  modern  form  it  dates 
from  the  skepticism  of  the  Renascence,  find- 
ing its  most  consistent  outcome  in  the  nega- 
tions of  Hume.  Men  began  to  realize  that  the 
world  of  reality  about  them,  seemingly  inde- 
pendent and  external,  crystallized  on  the  social 
side  in  the  form  of  such  institutions  as  the  State 
and  the  Church,  is  not  a  mere  objective  brute 
fact  which  is  forced  upon  them  by  external  au- 
thority, but  a  direct  outgrowth  of  human  needs 
and  activities  to  which  they  must  be  brought 
back  to  find  their  ultimate  meaning.  Thus  ex- 
perience itself  came  to  be  conceived  as  the 
standard  or  criterion.  Men  began  to  see  that  the 
institution  is  for  the  individual  as  well  as  the 
individual  for  the  institution.  This  new  idea 
broke  upon  the  world  at  first,  however,  as  a  half- 
truth,  emphasis  upon  which  led  to  the  extremes 
of  individualism.    The  natural  accompaniment 


TRUTH  227 

of  this  purely  internal  or  subjectivistie  concep- 
tion was  a  relativism  which  asserted  that  there 
is  no  categorical,  but  only  hypothetical,  cer- 
tainty. Even  so  profound  a  thinker  as  Kant, 
under  its  influence,  thought  it  necessary  to  de- 
fend separate  grounds  for  knowledge  and  faith. 
Both  the  strength  and  the  weakness  of  ration- 
alism lie  in  the  annunciation  of  this  half-truth  : 
its  weakness,  in  the  confessed  abjuration  of  all 
authority  ;  its  strength,  in  the  exaltation  of  the 
intellectual  nature  of  man.  Certainly  we  find 
in  the  use  of  the  reason  an  inalienable  criterion 
of  what  is  true  and  right  —  but  only  if  condi- 
tioned by  a  just  appeal  to  objective  testimony. 

Mysticism  is  likewise  a  reaction  against  ex- 
ternalism  and  absolutism,  but  it  is  a  rebound 
also   from   rationalism.  It  exalts  the 

I  .        .  T  •         1   c  1        Mysticism. 

subjective  and  emotional  lactor  at  the 
expense  of  the  objective  and  intellectual.  In  the 
mediaeval  period  it  may  be  regarded  as  a  reac- 
tion from  the  ritualism  of  Rome  and  from  the 
formalism  of  the  Scholastics.  In  the  modern 
period  it  is  a  reaction  against  rationalism,  espe- 
cially when  the  latter  tends  toward  a  scientific 
agnosticism.  In  one  aspect,  mysticism  is  the 
apotheosis  of  feeling.  It  emphasizes  the  religious 
sentiments  and  issues  in  a  tendency  to  mate- 


228  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

rialize  the  forms  of  religion.  In  this  aspect  it 
becomes  either  an  ascetic  rationalism  or  a  gross 
fanaticism.  In  another  aspect,  mysticism  em- 
phasizes the  instinctive  or  intuitive  use  of  the 
reason,  the  so-called  inner  sense.  Immediacy  is 
made  the  ultimate  test  of  truth.  On  this  side  it 
tends  toward  either  a  hedonistic  individualism 
or  a  pantheistic  idealism.  In  both  forms  mysti- 
cism is  inconsistent,  although  it  obscurely  states 
an  important  truth  lost  sight  of  in  the  extreme 
forms  of  rationalism.  But  the  criterion  here  also 
is  conceived  as  internal  and  subjective,  and  thus 
as  relative  and  particularistic. 

The  problem  of  authority  is  really  the  prob- 
lem of  the  discrimination  of  authorities.  There 
are  different  decrees  of  truth  and  re- 

TheMultl-  .  ,  .      o 

piicityof      ality.    Historically,  authority,  on  the 

standards.  .  .  .  *'    .  .        *' 

social  side,  has  resided  in  the  family, 
in  the  tribe  or  clan,  in  the  civil  or  religious 
institution.  To-day  we  are  in  a  transition  era  in 
which  these  conceptions  are  undergoing  recon- 
struction. Consequently  we  find,  as  perhaps  in 
no  previous  age  of  the  world,  a  veritable  Pan- 
theon of  authorities.  Here,  it  is  the  authority  of 
the  State  which  is  supreme,  even  in  religious  and 
scientific  affairs.  There,  it  is  the  authority  of 
the  Church.  Yonder,  there  is  discontent  or  open 


TRUTH  229 

revolution,  with  the  threatened  overthrow  of  all 
authority.  Here,  we  have  individualism ;  there, 
socialism  ;  yonder,  anarchism,  with  its  attempt 
to  undermine  all  institutional  life.  Our  very 
language  and  literature  are  permeated  with  it. 
We  hear  of  the  authority  of  precedent,  the 
authority  of  antiquity,  of  expert  testimony,  of 
authentic  records,  of  legal  documents  ;  the  au- 
thority of  experience,  of  character,  of  the  com- 
mon consciousness  or  consensus  of  opinion.  We 
never  get  away  from  it.  We  merely  set  up  one 
authority  in  place  of  another.  The  result  is 
that  among  the  educated  and  cultured  there  is 
coming  to  be  a  tolerance,  by  one  person  or  class, 
of  the  criteria  of  other  persons  or  classes.  The 
world  is  coming  to  see  that  there  may  be  au- 
thorities as  well  as  authority.  What  was  once 
true  is  not  necessarily  always  true.  The  con- 
sensus may  be  wrong  and  the  individual  right. 
The  authority  of  precedent  and  of  expert  testi- 
mony each  has  its  limitations.  Authority  must 
be  discriminated. 

Authority,  in  some  sense  of  the  word,  we  all 
rely  upon  for  the  majority  of  our  beliefs.  In 
no  case  is  what  a  man  calls  his  knowledsre 
wholly  verified  in  his  own  personal  experience. 
A  great  part  of  his  information  is  obtained  at 


230         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

second  hand,  is  taken  on  the  testimony  of  some 
TheDe-  ^ne  else.  So  long  as  men  depend  upon 
FiSi  c°oi5t  indirect  evidence  for  the  body  of  their 
of  Appeal,  behefs,  so  long  will  the  sources  of  the 
knowledg-e  thus  derived  be  recoo^nized  as  au- 
thorities.  The  existence  of  reflective  thought  is 
itself  an  acknowledgment  of  the  necessity  of  a 
sanction  for  our  beliefs.  The  determination  of 
the  nature  of  this  sanction  was  one  of  the  prob- 
lems of  the  Greeks,  but  it  received  only  a  partial 
analysis  at  their  hands.  The  dualism  of  the 
Middle  Ages  was  the  result  of  the  unanswered 
questions  they  raised.  But  ever  since  the  awak- 
ening of  thought  in  the  Renascence,  and  the 
quickening  of  conscience  in  the  Protestant  Re- 
formation, the  problem  of  the  criterion  of  truth 
has  been  a  leading^  one  in  both  its  loodcal  and 
its  ethico-religious  bearings.  At  the  present  time 
there  is  a  growing  demand  for  the  reconsidera- 
tion of  the  ultimate  basis  of  certitude  as  resrards 
both  what  is  true  and  what  is  right.  With  some, 
the  hope  seems  to  linger,  of  finding  a  fixed,  in- 
fallible, and  final  authority.  They  are  not  satis- 
fied with  relative  and  derivative  standards.  They 
seek  certainty,  especially  in  matters  \4tal  to 
morals  and  reli<jion.  With  others  the  interest  in 
the  problem  has  become  a  merely  negative  one. 


TRUTH  231 

They  have  seen  the  purely  arbitrary  nature  o£ 
certain  forms  of  authority,  and  conclude  that  all 
standards  are  of  the  same  character.  Finding 
what  they  once  believed  to  be  firm  ground  slip- 
ping from  under  their  feet,  they  imagine  that 
all  foundations  are  insecure,  and  become  skepti- 
cal and  pessimistic.  Still  others,  seeing  further, 
and  realizing  that  license  is  not  liberty,  from 
motives  either  of  truth-seeking  or  expediency, 
look  for  a  middle  path  or  golden  mean  between 
these  extremes.  Many  are  finding  solutions  which 
are  not  only  false  in  theory  but  pernicious  in 
practice,  leading  to  indifference  or  unbelief. 
But  ferment  and  inquiry  are  signs  of  a  profound 
faith  in  truth,  and  the  intellectual  unrest  of  the 
age  is  a  sign  of  its  moral  earnestness. 

The  principle  of  authority  apart  from  free- 
dom stands  for  tyranny.  Every  individual  has 
within  him  both  principles.  Authority 

,  ..-,■.'  ,1       Authority 

means  order,  coordination  —  not  sub-  and 
ordination.  Freedom  means  flexibility, 
liberty  —  not  license.  Just  as  in  the  education 
of  the  child  there  comes  a  time  when  imitation 
begins  to  yield  to  originality,  when  the  child 
begins  to  comprehend  the  principle  on  which 
the  parent  acts,  and  just  as,  if  he  keeps  on  and 
comprehends  the  genesis  of  this  principle  from 


232  PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

deeper  principles,  he  emancipates  himself  from 
the  position  of  mere  tutelage,  so  in  the  moral 
life,  so  far  as  the  great  truths  of  the  universe 
are  comprehended  by  man,  external  authority 
becomes  transformed  into  inward  freedom.  It 
is  the  truth  that  makes  us  free.  Authority  is 
not  destroyed  for  the  sake  of  freedom,  but  is 
the  means  of  setting  us  free.  It  is  as  useless  in 
the  end  as  it  is  irrational  and  immoral  through- 
out, to  attempt  to  override  reason  and  con- 
science by  the  mere  might  of  an  uncriticised 
authority.  Only  so  far  as  the  great  and  difficult 
task  of  uniting  freedom  with  compulsion  (a 
compulsion  springing  from  reason  rather  than 
fear)  has  been  accomplished  in  the  individual 
and  in  the  race,  has  a  sound  basis  been  laid  for 
a  true  attitude.  Might  and  right,  force  and  will, 
authority  and  reason,  need  not  be  conceived  as 
standing  in  opposition  to  each  other.  Right  es- 
sentially is  mighty,  will  is  forceful,  reason  is 
authoritative.  One  does  not  abnegate  selfhood 
when  he  yields  assent  to  authority.  Submission 
to  rational  power  is  the  highest  expression  of 
reason.  Man  is  never  more  man  and  nevermore 
free  than  when  he  accepts  truth  and  right.  But 
these  are  not  absolute  and  fixed  criteria;  they 
are  working  hypotheses.  The  failure  most  men 


TRUTH  233 

make,  says  Professor  Dewey,  is  in  setting  up  a 
standard  "authoritatively  instead  of  experi- 
mentally." 

The  word  "authority"  has  been  used  in  two 
important  senses :  as  opposed  to  reason  and  as 
the  expression  of  what  is  essentially 

TliG  Two 

rational.  There  are  two  kinds  of  au-  Kinds  of 
thority :  the  authority  of  coercion  and 
the  authority  of  rationality.  In  the  former 
sense,  it  is  equivalent  to  power-to-enf orce-obedi- 
ence  (Avi/a^t9,  Potestas).  In  the  latter  sense, 
it  is  equivalent  to  the  right-to-command-obedi- 
ence  ('E^ouo-ta,  Auctoritas).  In  the  former 
sense  it  implies  power,  might,  coercion.  In  the 
latter  sense  it  implies,  in  addition  to  this,  intel- 
ligence, right,  reason.  The  seat  of  highest  au- 
thority in  the  former  sense  would  be  the  greatest 
power  :  might  makes  right.  The  seat  of  highest 
authority  in  the  latter  sense  would  be  the 
greatest  rationality  :  right  makes  might.  Each 
use  of  the  word  contains  an  important  truth. 
Authority  involves  both  power  and  right:  the 
power-to-enforce  is  backed  by  the  right-to-com- 
mand. Any  other  use  of  the  term  makes  obedi- 
ence blind  and  credulous  instead  of  voluntarv 
and  intelligent.  Authority  is  the  admitted  right 
to  command  combined  with  the  power  to  en- 


234         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

force  the  assent  of  the  reason.  Chronologically 
the  right-to-command  and  the  power-to-enforce 
are  not  separable ;  logically  the  power  rests 
upon  the  right.  Authority  as  power  is  the  social 
side  of  the  criterion  ;  authority  as  right  is  a 
synonym  for  indi\'iduality.  But  individual  ini- 
tiative and  social  imperative  have  meaning  only 
in  terms  of  each  other. 

If  one  asks,  "  Why  have  a  standard  at  all  ? 
Why  not  be  free  from  all  restraint  ?  "  the  an- 
TheDis-  swer  is  that  it  is  impossible  to  be  free 
Jf^Sort"  ill  this  sense.  Man,  if  he  would,  could 
**®^-  not  escape  authority.  Even  if  a  man 

has  faith  in  nothing  stronger  than  his  own  un- 
belief, that  alone  will  save  him  from  utter  dis- 
ruption. This  very  unbelief  is  a  search  after 
something-  better  than  itself.  Nothing;  is  more 
instructive  than  the  history  of  the  emergence 
of  the  higher  forms  of  authority  which  are  now 
regnant  in  the  world,  from  the  lower,  the  au- 
thority of  coercion  giving  place  to  the  authority 
of  reason — fear,  which  is  submission  to  the 
authority  of  mere  force,  giving  place  to  faith, 
which  is  submission  to  the  authority  of  rational 
conviction.  The  same  is  true  in  the  development 
of  the  individual.  Many  of  the  beliefs  which 
in  youth  are  accepted  by  sheer  unquestioning 


TRUTH  235 

obedience  to  the  dicta  of  others,  later  on  become 
established  through  theii-  own  power  and  upon 
their  own  foundation  of  rational  merit.  Just  as 
in  the  history  of  nations  we  see  institutions, 
which  have  been  established  to  fulfill  certain 
ends,  persist  until  those  ends  are  accomplished 
and  then  disappear,  so  in  the  experience  of  the 
individual  filial  credulity  serves  its  time  and  ful- 
fills its  end  only  to  give  place  to  rational  beliefs. 
Not  that  there  is  no  longer  place  for  faith,  but 
credulity  yields  to  another  and  higher  prin- 
ciple. It  is  essential  developmentally,  but  also 
provisional  and  subordinate  to  the  proper  exer- 
cise of  reason.  "  I  beHeve  it  because  he  said  so  " 
becomes  merged  into  "  I  believe  it  because  it  is 
true."  What  is  temporary  has  transitive  au- 
thority, and  gives  place  to  the  abiding  authority 
of  what  is  rational.  Authority  in  this  sense  can 
exist  only  for  a  free  intelligent  being.  With  the 
dawn  of  self-consciousness  begins  the  passage 
from  the  authority  of  force  to  the  authority  of 
truth.  With  the  development  of  the  rational 
nature,  it  is  the  consonance  of  the  truth  received 
on  testimony  with  the  truth  acquired  by  direct 
experience  which  is  warrant  for  the  acceptance 
of  the  former.  The  certitude  resting;  on  author- 
ity  and  testimony  really  rests  on  a  discernment 


236         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

of  their  reasonableness.  Authority  as  force  is 
operative  as  an  unconscious  power  previous  to 
the  origin  of  conscious  reasoning ;  but  when 
reason  begins  to  function,  if  its  functioning  is 
normal,  authority  as  mere  coercion  is  shaken  off. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  in  so  far  as  this  authority 
is  seen  to  be  grounded  in  truth  and  right,  it  is 
not  cast  off  like  the  shackles  of  slavery,  but 
appropriated  as  the  safeguard  of  immaturity. 
This  is  the  legitimate  place  of  authority  —  as  a 
stepping-stone  and  auxiliary  to  a  rational  expe- 
rience. 


CHAPTER   VII 

REALITY 

A  NEW  interest  is  springing  up  in  the  midst  of 
the  materialism  of  contemporary  commerce  and 
science  —  an  interest  in  values.  With  the  leisure 
which  material  prosperity  brings,  and  with  the 
control  of  the  conditions  of  living  which  science 
makes  possible,  comes  the  deepening  of  interest 
in  the  appreciative  side  of  life. 

§    24.    WHAT  IS   REALITY? 

Philosophy  first  took  the  form  of  a  doctrine 
of  Being  —  Ontology.  It  asked  the  question, 
What  is  Reality?  It  gave  the  answer  Reality  is 
of  the  plain  man :  Reality  is  objectiv-  objectivity. 
ity.  Reality,  to  the  man  of  affairs,  is  what  he 
can  count  on,  the  permanent,  abiding,  independ- 
ent object  of  his  knowledge.  He  assumes  that 
the  object  exists,  whether  he  perceives  it  or  not. 
He  is  a  realist.  He  may  distinguish  two  kinds 
of  reality,  a  mental  and  a  material  world,  in 
which  case  he  is  also  a  dualist.  Or  he  may  hold 
that  we  cannot  know  the  ultimate  reality  of 


238         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

things,  but  only  appearances,  in  which  case  he 
is  an  agnostic  phenomenaHst. 

Philosophy  then  became  a  theory  of  faith  and 
feeling  —  Theology.  It  asked  the  question, 
Reauty  Is  Wt^^t  is  the  ultimate  seat  of  authority  ? 
Immediacy,  j^  gave  the  answer  of  the  mystic  :  Re- 
ality is  Immediacy.  The  real  is  the  fullness  of 
the  present  experience,  and  this  is  best  expressed 
by  that  sense  of  the  binding  of  the  finite  to 
the  cosmic  personality  which  is  called  religion. 
Feeling  rather  than  thought  is  the  key  to  the 
ultimate  nature  of  things.  The  truth  concern- 
ing reality  is  felt  rather  than  known.  It  is  ap- 
preciated by  direct  intuition,  not  by  scientific 
reflection  ;  by  faith,  not  by  sight. 

Philosophy  then  took  the  form  of  a  theory 
of  knowledge  —  Epistemology.  It  asked  the 
Reality  Is  qucstion,  What  is  knowledge?  It  gave 
vaudity.  ^^^  auswcr  of  the  man  of  science :  Re- 
ality is  Validity.  The  real  is  the  assured,  the 
genuine,  the  true.  It  lies  in  the  meaning,  the 
relations,  of  things,  in  the  thought  by  which 
things  are  apprehended.  Concepts,  laws,  types, 
are  the  most  real  things  in  the  universe.  The 
real  is  the  universal. 

Philosophy  is  now  taking  the  form  of  a  theory 
of  value  —  Axiology.  It  asks  the  question,  What 


REALITY  239 

is  the  standard  of  Worth  ?  It  gives  the  answer 
of  the  pragmatist:  Reality  is  Value,  beauty  is 
Reality  is  relevancy,  congruity,  ade-  ^^"^^ 
quacy,  satisfaction.  The  real  is  the  expression  of 
concrete  individual  purpose :  it  is  the  needful, 
the  important,  the  useful,  the  necessary.  The 
real  is  the  individual,  and  individuality  is  deter- 
mined by  interests,  motives,  desires,  utilities. 
Reality  is  not  simply  objective  existence,  nor 
immediate  feeling,  nor  even  valid  truth  :  it  is 
appreciation  of  value.  When  one  asks  concern- 
ing the  reality  of  anything,  he  means,  not  what 
is  it  apart  from  all  experience,  not  what  is  it  in 
itself,  but  what  is  its  reality  relative  to  some 
specific  need  or  use.  The  full  reality  of  a  ham-  % 
mer  is  found  only  when  it  is  put  into  action.  To 
ask  what  reality  is  can  only  mean  asking  what 
function  some  particular  phase  serves  under  cer- 
tain conditions  and  in  some  specific  situation. 
To  ask  w^hat  Being  is,  in  the  abstract,  can  be 
answered  only  in  an  abstract  way  —  Being  is 
for  the  sake  of  Doing,  Reality  is  Experience, 
Things  are  what  they  do,  Facts  are  Meanings 
or  Values.  But  it  is  only  the  philosopher,  the 
Professor-of-Tliings-in-General,  who  is  satisfied 
with  this  blank  reply.  Most  of  us  demand  more 
precise  answers  to  the  question.  What  is  real  ? 


240         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

And  these  answers  can  only  be  found  by  active 
investigation  of  the  concrete  contents  of  expe- 
rience, —  in  a  word,  by  science. 

§  25.   REALISM   AND   IDEALISM 

Such  may  be  regarded  as  the  foundation- 
principle  of  a  pragmatic  metaphysics  :  all  cate- 
gories, including  the  absolute,  including  reality, 
including  pragmatism  itself,  must  be  taken 
pragmatically.  But  there  is  one  thing  which, 
to  the  reahst  and  absolutist,  seems  to  be  given, 
viz.,  an  objective  world.  The  main  attack  upon 
pragmatism  by  its  critics  has  been  upon  its  sup- 
posed subjectivism.  What  does  the  pragmatist 
do  with  the  category  of  objectivity? 

The  realist  affirms  that  reality  exists  inde- 
pendently of  our  knowledge  of  it.  The  idealist 
asserts  that  there  is  no  reality  apart 

Realism. 

from  some  mode  of  knowledge  or  ex- 
perience. If  asked.  Whose  knowledge  or  expe- 
rience? he  may  answer,  My  individual  know- 
ledge or  experience.  If  he  means  what  most 
people  mean  by  "  individual,"  we  say  that  he 
is  a  subjective  idealist  or  solipsist.  We  regard 
this  as  absurd  because  it  contradicts  the  com- 
mon-sense view  of  the  world  as  an  external 
reaUty.  The  astronomer  does  not  bring  the  star 


REALITY  241 

into  existence  when  he  turns  his  telescope  upon 
it.  When,  wandering  in  the  woods,  I  find  a  rare 
orchid,  I  do  not  regard  this  particular  flower 
as  comins:  into  existence  for  the  first  time  when 
I  turn  my  eyes  upon  it.  I  assume  that  it  has 
been  growing  for  days  and  weeks,  and  that  if 
some  one  else  had  come  there  an  hour  before 
he  too  would  have  found  it.  When,  thrusting 
my  lead  pencil  into  the  corolla,  two  of  the  sta- 
mens stick  to  the  point  at  each  -insertion,  as 
they  stick  to  the  back  of  the  insect  exploring 
for  honey,  I  do  not  assume  that  this  is  all  the 
momentary  creation  of  my  fancy  or  even  of  my 
scientific  knowledo^e  as  a  botanist.  I  do  not 
think  these  thing-s  into  existence.  I  do  not 
create  the  Niagara  gorge  when  I  visit  it  for  the 
first  time.  While  this  sentence  in  a  sense  is  the 
product  of  my  thought,  I  do  not  create  its 
readers  out  of  the  dreams  of  my  fancy.  It  is 
conceivable,  to  be  sure,  that  my  thought  may 
have  somethins:  to  do  with  the  existence  of  the 
object  of  my  perception.  Still,  it  is  not,  I  be- 
lieve, the  mere  product  of  my  thinking,  if  by 
thinking  is  meant  what  men  ordinarily  mean 
by  that  term.  Solipsism  accordingly  is  thrown 
over  as  too  absurdly  contradictory  of  every-day 
experience  to  be  accepted  for  a  moment.    If 


242         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

carried  out  consistently,  subjective  idealism 
finally  reduces  to  either  a  platitude  or  an  ab- 
surdity, since  it  becomes  merely  a  restatement 
of  the  problem  and  not  in  any  sense  a  solution. 
We  put  reality  into  experience  instead  of  treat- 
ing it  as  though  it  were  outside.  But  we  still 
have  the  whole  universe  to  explain  after  we 
have  thus  rechristened  it.  The  old  problem 
breaks  out  anew  within  the  apparent  solution. 
It  must  be  noted  in  this  criticism  of  subjec- 
tive idealism  that  the  common-sense  view  of  the 
**  individual  "  and  of  "  thinking  "  has 

Idealism.        ,  i      t»  i       •  i      t  i  • 

been  assumed.  rJut  the  ideahsts  object 
to  an  uncritical  acceptance  of  the  plain  man's 
conception  of  these  things.  The  so-called  "  in- 
dividual "  of  common  sense,  they  tell  us,  is  an 
unreal  abstraction  :  the  real  individual  is  essen- 
tially social  in  character.  And  "  thinking," 
they  add,  is  not  a  process  which  takes  place 
"  in  my  head,"  with  no  influence  in  determin- 
ing the  reality.  Thought  is  not  merely  a  pas- 
sive but  an  active  process  in  knowledge :  it  is 
itself  one  stage  in  the  evolution  of  reality.  The 
star,  in  a  sense,  is  for  the  first  time  brought 
into  existence  when  the  astronomer  invents  a 
more  powerful  lens.  "  This "  star  formed  no 
part  of  the  universe  of  the  astronomer  or  of 


REALITY  243 

experience  at  large,  before  it  was  '^  discovered." 
The  star  is  different,  if  in  no  other  respect,  by 
reason  of  the  fact  that  it  is  now  being  looked 
at  by  means  of  this  instrument  of  greater  mag- 
nifying power.  But,  it  will  be  asked,  how  about 
a  star  like  Neptune,  whose  position  and  size 
were  determined  before  it  was  actually  seen 
through  the  telescope?  He  might  reply  that 
this  determination  of  its  position  by  astronomi- 
cal mathematics  was  its  discovery,  just  as  truly 
as  if  it  were  first  seen  and  then  its  position  de- 
termined. It  is  mediately,  instead  of  imme- 
diately, perceived.  The  ulterior  question  is : 
What  reality  did  Neptune  have  before  it  was 
mathematically  discovered  ? 

Likewise  with  the  orchid.  Surely,  it  might 
be  said  by  the  realist,  my  finding  it  among  the 
rocks  is  not  to  be  interpreted  as  my 

A      ,  .  -^     Illustration 

putting  it  there.  But,  the  idealist  re-  oitheor- 
plies,  a  savage  or  child  might  have 
stumbled  upon  it,  plucked  it,  and  out  of  curi- 
osity might  have  torn  the  corolla  apart,  but  it 
would  not  have  been  an  "  orchid  "  to  him.  It 
is  orchid  just  because  it  is  I,  a  botanist,  who 
find  it.  My  being  there  has  something  to  do 
with  lohat  it  is.  The  fact  that  I  am  a  botanist 
(with  all  that  this  means  in  human  history  as 


244         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

to  the  evolution  of  the  science  of  plant  life)  is 
just  what  determines  it  as  an  orchid,  and  not 
merely  a  curious  and  interesting  flower.  In  a 
similar  way,  it  is  a  "  curious  and  interesting 
flower  "  to  the  child  or  savage,  but  not  to  the 
animal.  And  so  on.  What  we  bring  to  the 
flower  in  our  perception  of  it  has  something  to 
do  with  what  it  is.  It  is  not  sufficient  to  say 
that  I  simply  find  the  orchid  to  be  what  it  is, 
that  my  perception  of  it  has  nothing  to  do  with 
its  existence  or  nature.  The  flower  is  a  differ- 
ent flower,  after  I  have  been  there,  from  what 
it  was  before.  It  is  a  different  flower  if  the 
savage  or  child  has  handled  it.  It  is  different 
if  an  insect  explores  its  nectary,  or  if  a  sheep 
sniffs  at  it.  I  need  not  have  plucked  it  or  even 
have  touched  it,  for  this  to  be  true.  Of  course 
it  is  different  if  I  tear  it  apart  to  study  its 
structure.  But  it  is  different  likewise  if  I 
merely  look  at  it  and  pass  by.  If  the  modern 
view  of  the  nature  of  consciousness  and  the 
self,  and  of  the  relation  of  thought  to  action, 
is  correct,  then  the  turning  of  my  eyes  to- 
ward the  object  is  performing  an  operation 
upon  it  as  truly  as  if  I  tore  it  up  by  the  roots. 
For  this  act  that  we  call  vision,  according  to 
current  scientific  principles,  involves  the  dis- 


REALITY  245 

turbance  and  readjustment  of  a  dynamic  phy- 
sical system  within  wliich  the  component  ele- 
ments, the  plant  and  the  retina,  as  well  as  the 
light-rays  and  the  sun,  are  all  factors.  The  eye 
and  retina  constitute  an  arc  only,  in  the  total 
circuit  of  influences  which  includes  the  ether- 
vibrations.  The  act  of  vision,  whatever  else  in 
addition  it  may  be,  is  a  disturbance  of  this 
dynamic  system  in  which  the  flower  as  well  as 
the  eye  is  a  member.  I  see  the  orchid  only 
when  my  organism  comes  into  a  certain  rela- 
tion to  the  ether-vibrations  or  electro-mag- 
netic disturbances,  whatever  they  are,  in  the 
luminous  object  which  physicists  in  a  figure  of 
speech  speak  of  as  reflecting  the  light.  Since 
action  in  nature  is  always  of  the  type  of  inter- 
action, it  follows  that  if  the  properties  of  the 
object  make  a  difference  to  the  vision  in  the 
eye,  the  vision  in  the  eye  must  in  turn  make  a 
difference  to  the  qualities  in  the  object. 

The  orchid  is  no  more  truly  complete  without 
the  eye  and  the  act  of  vision  than  it  would  be 
if  considered  apart  from  the  soil,  moisture,  heat, 
air,  and  light  which  are  the  conditions  of  what 
we  call  its  life.  It  is  not  complete  as  an  orchid 
until  it  has  established  all  its  relationships, 
and  relation  to  my  eye  is  such  a  relationship. 


246         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

which  conceivably  might  alter  the  very  essence 
of  its  being.  Suppose  it  catches  the  eye  of  a 
horticulturist,  and  he  transports  it  to  an  island 
in  the  sea  where,  by  reason  of  its  geographical 
isolation,  it  gradually  undergoes  modification 
into  what  would  be  called  a  different  species. 
In  such  a  case,  relationship  to  the  eye  of  the 
horticulturist  would  have  a  determiningf  in- 
fluence  in  constituting  its  essential  nature  as 
"  orchid."  It  is  part  of  its  reality  to  excite  my 
curiosity,  to  adorn  my  conservatory,  to  become 
the  theme  of  a  poem  or  the  subject  of  a  scien- 
tific monograph,  as  truly  as  to  absorb  nourish- 
ment from  the  air  and  propagate  its  sj^ecies 
through  cross-pollination  by  insects.  The  reality 
of  a  thing  is  the  sum  of  its  functions.  The  re- 
ality of  a  printing-press  lies  in  the  thoughts  that 
are  expressed  by  means  of  it,  as  truly  as  in  its 
mechanism  of  steel  rollers  and  wheels.  The  full 
reality  of  the  pen  with  which  Thomas  Jefferson 
signed  the  Declaration  of  Independence  cannot 
be  stated  apart  from  that  act  itself.  There  is 
sound  philosophic  basis  for  the  sentimental 
values  which  we  attach  to  the  helmet  of  Joan 
of  Arc,  or  to  a  wooden  image  of  Buddha  whose 
features  have  been  worn  away  by  the  lips  of 
thousands  of  devotees. 


REALITY  247 

Is  this  materialism?  By  no  means.  It  is  just 
as  true  that  there  is  an  act  of  vision  as  that 
there  is  an  orchid.  The  reaUty  of  each 

The  Prag- 

includes  both.   The  reahty  of  the  or-  maucweta- 

.        physics. 

chid  consists  partly  in  the  fact  of  its 
being  seen  by  an  eye,  and  my  reality  as  a  psycho- 
physical individual  consists  in  part  in  the  fact 
of  cognizing  orchids.  Not  that  there  are  two 
•worlds,  one  of  physical  things  (such  as  orchids), 
and  another  of  states  of  consciousness  (such  as 
visual  sensations),  but  there  is  one  world,  one 
unified  process  or  activity,  which,  under  certain 
conditions,  bifurcates  into  what  we  call  the- 
object-orchid  and  my- visual-experience-of -color. 
These  color-sensations  do  not  exist  in  and  of 
themselves :  they  do  not  exist  simply  in  the  mind. 
There  is  not  a  separate  realm  of  mental  states 
parallel  to,  or  concomitant  with,  certain  traits 
or  occurrences  in  the  orchid.  Color-sensations 
occur  only  under  certain  specific  conditions  (of 
tension  and  interaction)  in  an  organic  circuit 
which  includes  both  what  we  call  the  orchid 
and  what  we  call  the  brain  :  thinking  does  not 
take  place  in  a  vacuum,  we  think  with  our  or- 
ganisms. Relation  to  my  nervous  system  is  one 
step  or  condition  in  constituting  the  complete 
orchid,  and  relation  of  ray  nervous  system  to 


248         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

the  orchid  is  one  stage  or  factor  in  constituting 
my  experience  of  color.  The  physical  thing,  in 
other  words,  is  completed  only  in  the  conscious 
experience  of  color,  and,  conversely,  sensation 
becomes  a  full  experience  of  color  only  in  the 
orchid.  There  is  no  reason  for  interpreting  the 
reality  or  experience  of  my-self-seeing-orchid 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  one,  any  more  than 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  other  factor.  Is  the 
reality  in  the  orchid  or  in  my  consciousness  of 
color?  Is  it  in  the  physical  or  in  the  mental 
fact?  The  full  reality  is  neither,  taken  in  iso- 
lation :  it  is  the  two  in  their  reciprocal  relation- 
ship. The  reality  is  the  movement  of  the  situation 
as  a  whole  ;  it  is  the  interaction  of  these  factors. 
Doubtless  this  is  the  truth  of  the  conceptions 
of  Lotze  and  Green,  that  reality  is  the  "  system 
of  relations." 

Consciousness  is  not  a  mere  phantom  specta- 
tor viewing  an  objective  world  from  the  outside. 
It  is  not  a  mere  effervescence  on  the 

Knowledge 

and  surface  of  the  sea  of  material  thinsfs. 

Reality.  ,  .      .        ,  p  i- 

It  IS  action  ;  it  is  the  process  of  reality 
in  its  phase  of  reconstruction  and  evolution. 
Matter,  on  the  other  hand,  is  not  mere  brute 
fact.  It  is  not  inert  dead  substance  without 
life  or  meaning.    It  turns  itself  inside  out  in 


REALITY  249 

what  we  call  consciousness,  and  in  the  brain 
and  nervous  system  becomes  the  very  organ  of 
thoug-ht.  Our  thinking"  is  itself  an  element  in 
the  evolution  of  the  universe;  hence  the  laws 
of  such  thinking  have  relation  to  the  reality  of 
the  whole.  The  mere  physical  orchid  is  not  the 
reality,  but  the-orchid-as-the-object-of-my-know- 
ledge.  Nor  is  my  mere  idea  of  orchid  the 
full  reality,  but  my-idea-as-here-specified-under- 
these-conditions-in-space-and-time.  If  I  dream 
of  a  new  orchid  with  a  larger  corolla  and  more 
variegated  hue,  this  fancy  of  mine  is  not  the  full 
reality.  It  becomes  fully  real  only  as,  by  breed- 
ing and  selection  of  conditions,  I  help  nature  in 
accordance  with  the  laws  of  the  mutation  of 
species,  to  bring  about  a  variation  which  shall 
yield  this  orchid  of  my  fancy  as  a  new  variety 
living  and  flourishing  in  my  garden.  The  "  I  " 
and  the  process  of  "  knowing  "  are  loithin  the 
total  process  of  what  we  call  reality  or  experi- 
ence. The  problem  of  "  how  I  know  "  is  accord- 
ingly the  problem  of  how  a  certain  activity 
called  knowledge  takes  place  within  the  total 
process,  not  the  problem  of  how  one  reality 
(the  "  I ")  which  knows,  sets  up  an  external 
relation  with  another  reality  (the  "  orchid ") 
which  is  known.  Knowledge,  from  the  start,  is 


250         PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 

an  immanent  development.  It  is  a  mere  verbal 
confusion  which  insists  that  knowledge  is  a 
transcending  of  experience,  since  experience 
must  in  turn  be  defined  in  terms  of  knowledge. 
In  a  very  real  and  true  sense  the  idealist  may 
say  that  my  knowing  a  thing  has  something  to 
Thinking  Is  do  with  the  reality  of  the  thing  :  think- 
Thinging.     -^^^  -^  ^jjjjjgjj^g^    ^g  Profcssor  Dcwcy 

has  said  in  his  criticism  of  Lotze,  thinking  is 
not  merely  an  external  scaffolding  which  may 
be  torn  down  when  the  building  has  been 
erected.  It  is  more  like  the  materials  which  enter 
into  its  construction.  The  buildinof-  and  scaffold- 
ing  go  up  together.  The  scaffolding  goes  into 
the  building,  in  this  case,  as  the  iron  frame- 
work of  one  of  our  modern  sky-scrapers  forms 
a  part  of  its  permanent  structure.  Thinking  is 
not  like  the  hammer  and  saw  which  operate 
upon  the  material  from  without,  and  are  re- 
served to  use  upon  other  material,  but  rather 
like  the  beams  and  trusses  which  become  an 
integral  part  of  the  building.  Knowledge  may 
not  be  treated  as  an  instrument  having  a  na- 
ture of  its  own  independent  of  the  data  to  which 
it  is  applied  :  it  is  just  the  ordering  and  syn- 
thesizing of  these  data.  "  Since  reality  must  be 
defined  in  terms  of  experience,  judgment  appears 


REALITY  251 

as  the  medium  through  which  the  consciously 
effected  evolution  of  reality  goes  on." 

But,  the  realist  will  persist,  even  granting  this 
much,  it  remains  true  that  there  are  some  phases 
of  the  reality  of  the  thing,  some  aspects 
of  its  existence,  which  do  not  change  maucEpis- 
because  of  my  presence.  My  know- 
ledge does  not  account  for  the  species  of  which 
this  orchid  is  a  particular  instance ;  it  does  not 
account  for  the  geologic  evolution  of  plant-life 
which  has  made  this  particular  plant  possible ; 
it  does  not  account  for  the  mutual  adaptations 
of  the  habits  of  insects  and  the  floral  organs 
which  has  brought  about  the  unique  mechanism 
of  the  orchid's  corolla.  This  brings  us  to  the 
other  problem  raised  at  the  beginning  —  the 
question  as  to  what  we  mean  by  "individual" 
experience  and  knowledge.  The  realist  will  cer- 
tainly grant,  on  grounds  such  as  those  we  have 
just  been  considering,  that  there  is  some  sense 
in  which  thinking  determines  existence,  that  to 
some  degree  at  least  knowledge  does  partici- 
pate in  the  evolution  of  reality.  The  question 
is  whether  this  is  universally  true,  whether  all 
reality  is  dependent  upon  knowledge  for  its  ex- 
istence, whether  all  things  in  all  time  and  space 
and  in  all  their  characters  are  dependent  upon 


252         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

thought  or  knowledge  for  the  origin  and  con- 
tinuance of  their  beino^.  The  answer  to  this 
question  depends  upon  our  conception  of  the 
relation  of  what  we  call  the  individual  to  this 
process  of  thought  or  knowledge.  If  thinking 
is  a  distinct  process  operating  mechanically  upon 
an  external  reality,  there  is  no  answer  except 
that  of  the  realist.  But  this  is  not  true :  there 
is  an  organic  relation  between  the  two  which 
explains  at  once  the  objectivity  of  real  things 
and  the  subjectivity  of  mental  states. 

The  process  of  consciousness  is  not  confined 
to  the  individual.   That  perceptual  process  in- 
volves changes  which   extend  beyond 

Conscious-       ,  .  .  .  ,  1      p        M' 

ness  and  the  orgauism  IS  an  idea  made  lamiliar 
by  the  physiology  and  psychology  of 
the  senses.  In  order  to  have  visual  perception, 
processes  of  chemical  change  in  the  nervous 
system — in  the  retina  and  in  the  brain — are 
necessary ;  but  equally  necessary  are  the  ether 
vibrations  reflected  from  the  luminous  object. 
In  like  manner  air-waves  are  necessary  for  the 
perception  of  sound,  and  so  forth.  I  cannot  ac- 
tually transport  myself  in  a  moment  to  an  object 
distant  in  space,  or  experience  again  an  event 
that  is  past,  but  there  are  set  ujd  in  the  nervous 
system  processes  which  link  my  being  with  that 


REALITY  ^  253 

of  the  distant  object  or  with  that  of  the  past 
event.  Because  of  its  obvious  dependence  upon 
the  state  of  the  sense-organs,  perception  has 
come  to  be  associated  primarily  with  the  organ- 
ism, rather  than  with  any  part  of  the  spatial  or 
temporal  environment :  it  comes  to  be  regarded 
as  "  a  process  taking  place  in  the  self  apart  from 
external  things."  But,  as  we  have  seen  in  an 
earlier  chapter,  consciousness  is  not  confined  to 
the  limits  of  the  organism.  Knowledge,  in  primi- 
tive times,  was  regarded  as  taking  place  by  di- 
rect contact  of  the  percipient  subject  with  the 
perceived  object.  In  early  Greek  theory,  minute 
facsimiles  of  the  objects  were  supposed  to  be 
projected  upon  the  sense-organ.  Later,  when 
motion,  wholly  unlike  either  the  object  or  the 
sense-organ,  took  the  place  of  these  corpuscular 
effluvia,  knowledge  came  to  be  definitely  located 
in  the  organism,  while  the  reality  remained  out- 
side and  beyond.  It  was  only  a  step  further  to 
deny  the  existence  of  this  external  reality  alto- 
gether. But,  as  we  now  see,  the  organism  simply 
represents  a  point  at  which  the  forces  of  the  en- 
vironment come  to  a  focus  and  thence  irradiate. 
Consciousness,  therefore,  cannot  be  correlated 
exclusively  with  the  so-called  individual  organ- 
ism. It  is  not  something  which  can  be  appor- 


254         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

tioned  in  parcels  to  the  different  members  of 
society.  I  have  consciousness,  not  a  conscious- 
ness. Experience  is  primarily  activity  or  process 
—  something  going  on.  Whether  it  belongs  to 
you  or  to  me  is  a  matter  of  shifting  relationship. 
It  is  real  only  in  centres  of  individual  personality, 
yet  maintains  its  existence  only  by  continual  ex- 
change. Experience,  as  Professor  James  says,  is 
a  joint- stock  affair,  the  universe  is  a  society-of- 
selves. 

§    26.     THE   NATURE    OF    OBJECTIVITY 

Reality  is  in  some  sense  objective.  To  this  all 
thinkers  agree.  But  there  is  a  difference  in  the 
statements  of  what  is  meant  by  objec- 
tive as  the  tivity.  The  naive  view  that  the  objec- 
tive is  something  which  intrudes  itself 
upon  consciousness  from  without  is  no  longer 
held.  But  in  giving  up  this  view  we  are  far  from 
clear  in  stating;  the  doctrine  substituted  for  it. 
We  still  cling  to  objectivity  in  the  sense  of  com- 
pulsion and  externality,  even  when  we  profess 
to  have  rejected  these  implications.  The  Kantian 
view  that  the  objective  is  that  which  men  are  uni- 
versally and  necessarily  constrained  to  think,  — 
quite  apart  from  the  special  dijfliculties  of  his 
inconsistent  world  of   things-in-themselves, — 


REALITY  255 

requires  modification  before  it  can  be  trans- 
formed into  a  satisfactory  explanation.  The  doc- 
trine of  an  independent  and  external  reality 
must  be  given  up,  alq^ng  with  the  representative 
theory  of  knowledge,  by  a  pragmatic  philosophy 
in  which  reality  and  experience  are  regarded  as 
the  same  fact.  Objectivity  must  have  a  meaning 
within  experience ;  it  is  not  the  presentation  of 
something  to  experience.  There  can  be  objec- 
tivity only  in  a  functional  sense  :  not  brute  phy- 
sical compulsion  from  without,  but  organic  con- 
trol from  within.  Reality  is  objective,  not  in  the 
sense  of  lying  outside  knowledge,  but  in  the 
sense  of  being  brought  clearly  to  consciousness 
in  knowledg-e. 

The  principle  of  control  in  experience  is  found 
in  habit  and  in  the  image.  If  one  wishes  to  de- 
termine his  experience  an  hour,  a  day,  otjectivity 
or  a  week  hence,  he  must  do  so  by  "°°'^*"^- 
some  modification  of  his  habits.  The  instance 
of  the  busy  man  commissioned  by  his  wife  to  do 
an  errand  on  his  arrival  in  town  is  a  case  in 
point.  Knowing  that  he  will  have  a  thousand 
thinjjs  to  divert  his  attention  before  he  arrives 
at  his  office,  he  devises  some  sort  of  an  expedient 
to  connect  his  present  activities  with  the  proper 
reaction  when  the  moment  arrives  to  execute 


256         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

the  commission.  He  carries  his  umbrella  in  the 
left  hand,  ties  a  string  around  his  finger,  combs 
his  hair  on  the  wrong  side,  all  to  no  avail.  He 
provides  a  cue,  and  straightway  forgets  what  it 
is.  He  may  intend  to  hold  his  watch  in  his  hand 
until  the  errand  is  carried  out,  but  he  does  not 
reckon  with  deep-seated  automatisms :  the  watch 
is  slipped  back  into  the  pocket  with  no  trace  left 
except  perhaps  an  exasperating  sense  of  having 
forgotten  something.  One  man  has  happily  hit 
upon  a  method  which,  for  him,  successfully  meets 
the  situation.  He  puts  a  card  in  his  hat  with  a 
memorandum  of  the  errand.  When  he  arrives 
at  the  office,  if  not  sooner,  on  removing  his  hat, 
the  card  falls  out  and  reminds  him  of  his  charge. 
The  difference  between  the  successful  and  un- 
successful methods  lies  in  the  objectivity  of  the 
controlling  element.  The  umbrella,  the  string, 
the  watch,  are  too  much  a  part  of  the  personal 
habits  of  the  individual ;  they  are  too  subjective. 
But  the  card,  through  the  operation  of  these  very 
habits,  brings  about  a  break  in  the  experience, 
creates  a  conflict,  and  thus  calls  out  the  act  of 
attention  requisite  to  arouse  the  relevant  motor- 
response.  By  objective,  then,  is  meant,  not  a 
world  which  is  external  in  an  existential  or  on- 
tological  sense,  but  that  one  experience  is  deter- 


REALITY  257 

mined  in  terms  of  another.  That  part  of  my 
experience  is  objective  which  serves  as  an  instru- 
ment with  which  to  control  another  part.  It  is 
compulsory,  not  in  the  sense  that  I  cannot  help 
having  it,  but  in  the  sense  that  it  must  be  taken 
into  account  if  I  undertake  to  construct  a  fur- 
ther experience.  It  is  objective  in  the  degree 
that  it  presents  itself  as  controlling  something 
else.  And  this  shows  why  the  idea  of  necessity 
is  so  intimately  connected  with  that  of  objec- 
tivity: the  objective  is  that  which  I  must  con- 
trol if  I  am  to  attain  my  end. 

The  same  principle  explains  the  function  of 
the  image  in  constituting  the  objective  world. 
It  is  the  check  put  upon  the  habitual  Reoonoiua- 
tendencies,  converting  them  into  a  con-  {hJsetwo 
scious  process,  that  determines  the  ob-  '^^^"^^• 
jectivity  of  the  situation.  The  etymology  of  the 
term  "objective"  means  just  this:  an  object  is 
an  obstacle,  it  is  that  which  objects.  Objectivity 
means  obstruction,  inadequacy,  interruption. 
When  things  go  smoothly,  or  when  a  coordina- 
tion has  become  easy  because  we  have  become 
expert  in  its  performance,  we  lose  the  sense  of 
resistance  offered  by  an  objective  world.  It  is 
the  conflict  among  the  contents  of  experience 
that  makes  certain  of  them  take  on  an  external 


258         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

character.  They  cease  to  be  immediate  ways  of 
living,  and  become  thoughts  about  reality  or 
distinct  objects  of  perception.  It  is  the  "  felt 
unsatisfactoriness  of  experience,"  as  Professor 
Stuart  says,  "  which  suggests  the  differentiation 
of  subject  and  object  and  the  postulation  of  the 
latter  as  an  alien  *  other,'  causing  the  unsatisfac- 
toriness." We  project  the  world  and  ascribe  to 
it  externality,  "just  because  and  in  so  far  as  we 
are  baffled  by  an  experience  we  cannot  control." 
This  would  seem  to  be  the  truth  in  Mr.  Bosan- 
quet's  statement  that  truth  is  what  we  are  obliged 
to  think.  But  this  is  a  compulsion  from  within : 
it  is  the  necessity  of  habit.  We  encounter  our 
own  fixed  ways  of  doing  things  in  a  situation 
which  calls  for  a  flexible  adjustment;  the  ob- 
struction to  the  free  working  of  habits  juts  out 
in  consciousness  as  an  object.  There  is  thus  no 
contradiction  between  the  two  statements  of  the 
meaning  of  objectivity,  —  as  obstruction  and 
as  control.  The  sense  of  compulsion,  externality, 
and  arbitrariness  is  merely  the  fact  of  control 
carried  beyond  the  situation  within  and  for  the 
sake  of  which  it  was  set  up.  Objectivity,  in  the 
sense  of  obstruction,  is  the  habit  getting  in  its 
own  way,  so  to  speak,  instead  of  mediating  the 
situation,  in  its  role  as  an  image. 


REALITY  259 

In  this  lies  the  truth  in  the  common  conscious- 
ness that  touch  is  the  test  of  the  real.  An  object 
always  expresses  the  content  of  an  act. 
If  I  shut  my  eyes,  the  pencil  with  which   the  Test  oi 

x  .   .  ,.  „  .    ,  the  Real. 

1  am  writing  disappears  tor  my  vision ; 
but  it  does  not  to  you,  who  still  have  your  eyes 
open.  Shut  your  eyes,  and  the  pencil  disappears 
for  you  too.  But  we  can  still  touch  it.  If  we 
could  not,  we  should  agree  that  the  reality  of  the 
pencil  had  vanished.  There  can  be  no  knowledge 
of  objectivity  without  the  union  of  motor-reac- 
tions with  the  sensations  of  special  sense.  This 
means  that  the  objectivity  of  the  pencil  is  due 
to  the  reinforcement  of  the  other  sensational 
experiences  by  the  tactile-kinaesthetic  imagery 
which  is  the  fundamental  imagery  of  meaning. 
If  this  reinforcement  does  not  take  place  with 
perfect  smoothness,  an  image  is  aroused  which 
mediates  between  the  divorced  aspects  of  subject 
and  object.  The  positive  statement  of  objectivity 
is  thus  to  be  found  in  the  control  which  comes 
through  conscious  habit  —  the  image,  the  idea, 
the  standard,  the  ideal,  the  law,  the  theory,  the 
scientific,  the  philosophic  principle.  The  object 
is  the  terminus,  the  end,  that  toward  which  I 
am  moving,  that  which  I  am  seeking  and  which 
I  must  control  if  my  experience  is  to  be  an  or- 


260         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

dered  and  systematic  whole.  It  was  in  this  sense 
that  Kant  said  that  the  understanding  creates 
the  world,  and  Hegel  taught  that  the  laws  of 
thought  are  the  laws  of  things:  the  objective 
world  is  not  revealed  tOy  but  comes  to  conscious- 
ness in  experience. 

Science,  as  M.  Binet  has  pointed  out,  does 
not  get  rid  of  the  subjective  element  when  she 

fashions  instruments  of  precision.  It  is 
tionaiDis-    true  that  we  rely  upon  thermometers 

mstead  oi  our  subjective  estimates  oi 
heat ;  upon  balances  instead  of  our  estimates  of 
weight;  and  upon  the  sphygmographic  curve 
instead  of  crude  observations  of  the  pulse.  Yet 
we  read  the  scales,  on  such  instruments,  through 
the  medium  of  visual  sensations,  and  in  the  case 
of  astronomical  observations  the  personal  equa- 
tion, in  readings  of  this  sort,  becomes  of  vital 
importance.  These  instruments  correct  the  sub- 
jective error  for  the  purposes  for  which  they  are 
designed  (they  are  objective  because  they  give 
control  adequate  for  the  situation),  but  they  are 
not  objective  in  any  absolute  sense,  since  they 
in  turn  may  become  subjective  in  the  exigencies 
of  more  delicate  measurements.  Just  as  objec- 
tivity signifies  obstruction  or  control  according 
as  it  is  viewed  in  its  negative  or  in  its  positive 


REALITY  261 

aspect,  so  subjectivity  signifies,  on  the  negative 
side,  doubt,  uncertainty,  personal  equation,  as 
a  disturbing  factor  in  the  situation,  while,  on  the 
positive  side,  it  is  represented  in  the  feeling  of 
success  and  that  pleasurable  sense  of  smooth- 
ness and  ease  which  control  gives. 

§  27.  SPACE,  TIME,  AND  CAUSATION 

From  the  point  of  view  of  such  a  pragmatic 
or  functional  idealism  it  is  possible  to  give  a 
meaning  to  the  categories  of  space,  time,  and 
causation  which  avoids  the  antinomies  in  which 
these  concepts  are  involved  when  treated  from 
the  point  of  view  of  a  purely  realistic  or  ideal- 
istic metaphysics.  The  nature  of  space  and  time 
is  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  perplexing  prob- 
lems of  human  thought.  Are  they  ultimately 
real,  or  only  appearances  —  illusions  —  due  to 
our  limited  modes  of  perception  ? 

When  the  baby  struggles  to  its  feet  by  the 
help  of  a  chair  and  takes  its  first  tottering  steps 
alone,  it  has  no  consciousness  of  the  space  and 
space  category  implied.  When  later  the  '^^^• 
boy  knocks  a  ball  across  a  diamond-shaped 
field  to  his  playmate,  he  still  lacks  any  clear 
consciousness  of  the  space  relations  involved. 
It   is   much    later,  when    he    makes   his   first , 


262         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

acquaintance  with  metaphysics  as  a  student  in 
college,  that  he  first  clearly  recognizes  what  he 
calls  space  and  time  as  distinct  from  other 
things.  Many  persons  never  reach  this  reflective 
stage  at  all.  What  is  here  stated  for  the  indi- 
vidual is  true  also  of  the  race.  Men  made  instinc- 
tive and  practical  use  of  spatial  and  temporal 
relations  long  before  they  generalized  them  in 
the  form  of  abstract  concepts.  What  shall  we 
say  concerning  the  nature  of  space  and  time  in 
the  light  of  this  fact  that  our  consciousness  of 
them  as  clear  and  distinct  object-matter  of 
thought  is  a  relatively  late  acquisition  ? 

Common-sense  realism  says  that  space  and 
time  were  in  existence  long  before  man  or  any 

other  conscious  and  intelligfent  creature 
The  * 

Objecuvist  was  there  to  perceive  them,  and  that 
our  knowledge  of  them  consists  merely 
in  a  progressively  widening  and  deepening  dis- 
covery of  what  they  really  are  and  always  have 
been.  Space  and  time,  according  to  this  theory, 
are  external  realities  existing  independently  of 
consciousness.  They  have  existed  or  may  exist, 
if  they  do  not  now  exist,  outside  of  our  thought. 
This  is  the  objectivist  or  realistic  theory.  The 
plain  man  regards  the  extension  and  duration 
of  objects  and  events  as  external  and  independ- 


REALITY  263 

ent  of  his  knowledge  of  them.  If  it  is  pointed 
out  that  certain  qualities  are  dependent  upon 
the  perceiving  subject,  he  meets  this  objection 
by  the  time-honored  distinction  between  primary 
and  secondary  qualities.  Extension,  solidity, 
size,  shape,  and  succession  in  time  are  objective 
properties  in  the  thing,  independent  of  our  per- 
ception ;  while  color,  sound,  odor,  taste,  tem- 
perature are  subjective  qualities  due  to  the  state 
of  the  percipient's  sense  organ.  The  only  reason 
we  ascribe  a  more  permanent  reality  to  space 
and  time  than  to  colors,  sounds,  or  odors  is  that 
the  control  of  nature  has  been  obtained  by  man 
through  the  science  of  mechanics  rather  than 
through  optics  or  acoustics.  Moreover,  in  stereo- 
scopic vision  by  an  act  of  attention  it  is  possible 
to  cause  the  semblance  of  solidity  to  appear  or 
disappear  at  will,  while,  similarly,  in  memory 
we  may  reverse  the  time  process.  And  if  the 
accounts  given  by  patients  who  have  had  a  limb 
amputated  are  to  be  credited,  there  may  be  per- 
ception of  solid  space-occupying  objects  where 
their  existence  is  known  to  be  impossible,  while 
drowning  visions,  in  which  the  events  of  a  life- 
time are  crowded  into  a  moment,  illustrate  the 
same  principle  with  reference  to  time. 

According  to  another  theory,  space  and  time 


264         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

are  only  as  they  ave  perceived.  They  have  ex- 
istence only  as  the  content  of  conscious- 
jectivist  ness — as  the  subject-matter  of  thought, 
as  the  instrumentalities  of  active  intel- 
ligent beings.  Kant  says  that  they  are  modes 
of  knowledge,  forms  of  perception.  Green  says 
they  are  not  substances,  but  relations.  This 
theory  is  based  upon  the  argument  that  a  thing 
is  real  only  as  it  is  real  for  somebody,  that  a 
space  and  time  of  which  no  one  knows  anything 
do  not  exist.  What  objects  in  space  and  events 
in  time  may  be  apart  from  our  cognition  of 
them  is  a  meaningless  question,  for  the  only 
way  in  which  we  can  think  of  them  is  in  terms 
of  our  knowledge  of  them.  Space  and  time  are 
in  us  rather  than  we  in  them.  This  is  the  sub- 
jectivist  or  idealistic  theory. 

That  space  and  time  are  in  some  sense  de- 
pendent upon  us  is  evident  from  the  fact  that 
Arguments  ^^  cvcry  act  of  visual  perception  or 
lectivist '^^'  recognitive  memory  we  rise  above  them. 
Theory.  When  the  scientist  gazes  through  a 
telescope  at  the  explosion  of  a  star  many  light- 
years  distant,  or  studies  the  elements  of  a  sister 
planet  by  means  of  the  spectroscope;  when 
through  a  microscope  he  observes  organic  forms 
too  small  to  be  seen  with  the  naked  eye,  in  a 


REALITY  265 

very  real  sense  he  is  transcending  space  limita- 
tions. When  by  means  of  trigonometry  and  cal- 
culus he  predicts  an  eclipse  a  hundred  years 
hence,  or  by  means  of  geology  and  paleontology 
figures  out  the  action  of  primitive  seas  in  erosion 
and  rock-formation,  in  a  certain  sense  he  is 
transcending  the  limitations  of  time.  All  self- 
consciousness  is  victory  over  time  and  space. 
The  very  fact  that  we  have  an  idea  of  them 
proves  that  we  triumph  over  them.  Their  con- 
trol by  science  and  civilization  shows  their 
phenomenal  character. 

But  how,  one  asks,  are  mathematics  and 
physical  science  possible  if  the  existence  of  space 
and  time  is  a  purely  subjective  affair?  Arguments 
It  would  seem  that  they  must  be  objec-  J^ouvist  *' 
tive  in  some  sense  if  we  are  not  to  sac-  '''^«°^- 
rifice  the  universaHty  and  necessity  of  their 
laws.  Kant  recognizes  this  difficulty  and  meets 
it  by  assuming  their  a  priori  character  as  forms 
of  perception.  The  vaHdity  of  scientific  con- 
structions is  guaranteed  by  the  universality  and 
necessity  of  the  forms  of  our  knowledge  by 
which  we  prescribe  to  nature  the  laws  which 
she  obeys.  The  realist  readily  replies  to  this, 
that  there  were  objects  and  events  of  a  non- 
conscious  and  non-intelligent  order  which  sus- 


266         PRmCIPLES   OF  PEAGMATISM 

tained  these  relations  long  before  the  appearance 
of  life  and  mind  and  Kant.  And  he  seems  to 
have  science  on  his  side  when  he  cites  the  aeons 
of  evolution  of  inorganic  nature  which  elapsed 
in  this  preorganic  and  preconscious  period.  He 
may  go  further  and  give  us  a  picture  of  the 
whorls  of  nebulous  material,  the  collision  of 
atoms,  the  integration  of  matter  and  concomi- 
tant dissipation  of  energy,  by  which  the  physical 
world  through  long  ages  gradually  became  the 
fit  habitat  for  protoplasm.  But  this  conception 
of  the  material  nature  of  the  universe,  and  es- 
pecially the  implied  conception  of  the  possibility 
of  the  independent  existence  of  the  physical 
apart  from  the  mental,  is  based  upon  a  gigantic 
assumption  —  that  the  description  of  the  uni- 
verse which  physical  science  has  given  us  in  the 
mechanical  theory  of  nature  is  true.  Mr.  Ward 
has  called  attention  to  the  hypothetical  charac- 
ter of  the  judgments  of  exact  science,  and  warns 
the  man  of  science  not  to  confound  the  con- 
ceptual shorthand  of  his  descriptive  statements 
with  the  actual  phenomenon.  The  "  nature " 
of  the  mechanical  scientist  is  a  mere  abstract 
scheme  —  an  artifact.  His  '^  matter  "  is  not  the 
lump  substance  of  the  plain  man's  experience, 
but  a  logical  construct.  His  "  space  "  and  "  time  " 


REALITY  267 

are  mathematical  abstractions  which  know  no- 
thing of  places  or  dates.  "  Force  "  does  not  sig- 
nify cause  as  in  every-day  life.  While  the  ideas 
of  perfect  mechanism  and  absolute  uniformity 
may  be  required  methodologically,  they  must  not 
be  regarded  as  giving  us  a  final  description  of 
the  world  in  which  we  actually  live.  It  is  a  fal- 
lacy to  ascribe  objective  existence  to  these  ab- 
stractions beyond  the  purposes  for  which  they 
were  devised. 

The  truth  regarding  space  and  time  lies  back 
of  the  conceptions  both  of  the  realist  and  of  the 
idealist.   Both  these  views  presuppose 
the  representative  theory  of  knowledge  tionai 

,  Theory. 

and  fall  with  the  overthrow  of  that 
doctrine.  Space  and  time  are  methodological 
statements  of  experience  which  emerge  within 
and  for  the  sake  of  the  reconstruction  of  action. 
They  must  be  functionally  stated  with  reference 
to  the  needs  of  the  experience  which  calls  them 
into  being,  and  with  reference  to  the  ends  they 
serve  in  the  mediation  of  those  needs.  Space 
consists  of  certain  stresses  and  strains,  certain 
tensions  in  the  effort  to  move.  It  is  well  known 
to  psychologists  that  space  is  relative  to  our 
perceptive  organs.  Lines  which  stimulate  the 
margin  of  the  retina  have  a  very  different  space 


268         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

value  from  those  which  stimulate  the  centre. 
Crossed  lines  seem  bent  at  the  centre  but  straight 
at  the  periphery.  There  is  a  constant  disparity 
between  the  space  values  of  the  skin  at  different 
points.  The  cavity  in  a  tooth  seems  very  differ- 
ent when  seen,  when  touched  with  the  finger, 
and  when  touched  by  the  tongue.  While  these 
discrepancies  do  not  ordinarily  interfere  with 
our  activities  in  practical  life,  they  often  become 
a  great  hindrance  to  accuracy  in  scientific 
measurement,  and  supply  the  material  basis  for 
a  functional  theory  of  space. 

It  is  commonly  held  that  there  are  two  kinds 
of  space :  tactile-kinaesthetic  and  retinal.  Some 
Analysis  of  psychologists  doubt  whether  the  latter 
^onsdoM-  ^^  really  different  in  character  from  the 
ness.  former,  i.  e.  whether  there  is  any  ex- 

tensity  of  sensation  which  does  not  have  its  ori- 
gin ultimately  in  tactile  and  kinsesthetic  imagery. 
But  others  hold  that  there  is  a  visual  perception 
of  space  independent  of  the  use  of  the  muscles  of 
the  eye.  In  either  case  the  perception  of  space 
would  be  quite  different  for  an  animal  which 
had  lateral  eyes  which  must  be  focused  succes- 
sively on  an  object  and  an  animal  like  man  who 
can  focus  both  eyes  simultaneously  on  a  single 
object.  The  space  world  of  the  animal  would 


REALITY  269 

naturally  get  its  form  from  the  character  of  the 
experiences  which  constitute  the  content  of  its 
struggle  for  life.  Ambidextrality  means  a  larger 
command  over  physical  objects.  The  acrobat, 
the  juggler,  the  sailor,  the  aeronaut,  each  has 
a  space  world  to  some  extent  peculiarly  his  own. 
If  I  lay  hold  of  a  needle,  a  cane,  a  hatchet,  a 
knife,  a  violin-bow,  the  throttle  of  a  locomotive, 
I  thereby  enlarge  my  control  and  thus  my  space 
world.  The  steam-hammer,  the  sewing-machine, 
the  reaper  are  but  extensions  of  the  hand.  The 
locomotive,  bicycle,  ship,  automobile,  aeroplane 
are  extensions  of  the  leg  or  wing.  The  micro- 
scope and  telescope  are  refinements  of  the  eye. 
The  telephone,  telegraph,  and  Marconigram  are 
refinements  of  the  ear.  The  doctrine  of  the  sub- 
jectivity of  space  in  one  sense  is  true.  My  space 
is  mine  and  not  my  neighbor's.  The  same  is 
true  of  time.  There  are  as  many  spaces  and  times 
as  there  are  individual  centres  of  conscious- 
ness and  intelligence.  But  this  merely  means 
that  space  and  time,  like  all  things  else  in  a 
growing  universe,  are  most  real  where  they  are 
individualized,  i.  e.  are  most  real  when  viewed 
in  process  of  organization  and  reorganization. 
They  are  not  subjective  in  the  sense  that  they 
are  psychical  or  inner,  as  opposed  to  physical 


270         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

or  outer  :  they  are  not  subjective  in  an  ontologi- 
cal  sense.  They  are  subjective  in  the  functional 
sense  :  they  are  methods  by  which  action  is  re- 
constructed in  individual  consciousness.  Method 
as  such  is  always  conscious  and  individual ;  it 
is  habit  undergoing  reconstruction  at  the  point 
of  need  in  the  adaptation.  Space  and  time  at 
first  are  simply  instinctive  modes  of  dealing 
with  certain  types  of  situation.  As  these  direct 
modes  of  reaction  become  explicit  in  reflective 
consciousness  as  methods,  they  come  to  be  known 
as  ideas,  concepts,  categories.  But  even  then  they 
are  but  phases  of  the  machinery  of  that  tension 
by  which  different  aspects  of  an  experience  are 
held  apart  until  a  readjustment  can  be  made. 

Suppose  a  man  about  to  leap  across  a  brook. 
The  man  is  here.  The  bank  is  over  there.  It  is 
Illustration  ^^  faraway,  so  many  feet  distant.  (Note 
M?th?^  the  figure :  it  is  so  many  feet,  i.  e.  so 
^"°^-  many  steps  or  jumps  away.)    As  he 

measures  the  interval  with  his  eye  and  strains 
his  muscles  in  preparation  for  a  spring,  he  ex- 
periments ideally.  He  anticipates  the  jump  in 
idea.  As  Professor  Stout  says,  he  crosses  the 
bridge  before  he  comes  to  it.  The  distinctions 
of  here  and  there,  of  now  and  then,  are  ulti- 
mately in  terms  of  some  vital  act,  however  it 


REALITY  271 

may  be  masked  by  inhibition  or  overlaid  by 
secondary  reactions.  Up  and  down,  right  and 
left,  fore  and  aft  get  their  significance  from 
their  relation  to  the  movements  of  the  organism 
as  a  centre.  Space  and  time  are  statements  of 
the  means,  the  method,  of  action.  They  are 
phases  of  the  conscious  transition  from  one  ex- 
perience to  another.  They  are  instrumental  to 
the  act.  The  moment  the  man  begins  to  jump, 
these  distinctions  become  nothing  to  him  except 
as  they  define  the  point  where  he  expects  to 
aliofht. 

The  space  and  time  worlds  have  been  built 
up  together.  Succession  and  simultaneousness 
are  to  a  certain  extent  correlative  con- 

The  Time 

ceptions,  since  in  order  to  apprehend  conscious- 

I16SS 

in  detail  the  elements  in  a  simultaneous 
presentation  it  is  necessary  to  perceive  them 
in  succession.  The  language  descriptive  of  time 
relations  is  often  borrowed  from  space  and  that 
of  space  from  time.  But  there  is  this  difference 
between  them,  that  while  the  parts  of  space 
appear  to  be  an  aggregate,  the  parts  of  time 
form  a  series.  Space  has  been  called  the  present 
of  time  and  time  the  elsewhere  of  space.  Hear- 
ing is  generally  regardedas  the  time  sense,  but  the 
tactile  and  kinjesthetic  sensations  play  an  im- 


272         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

portant  part  in  the  perception  of  rhythm  which 
lies  at  the  foundation  of  the  time  consciousness. 
Accent  and  metre  in  music  and  poetry  furnish 
an  endless  field  for  study.  Time  originally  must 
have  grown  out  of  the  attempt  to  measure  dis- 
tance in  terms  of  rhythmical  bodily  movements, 
such  as  paces  or  leaps.  To  say  that  a  tree  is  so 
many  paces  away  means  that  it  would  require 
the  performance  of  so  many  successive  acts  to 
cover  the  distance  between  you  and  the  tree. 
The  unit  of  time  measurement  is  primarily  some 
activity  of  the  organism.  But  in  order  that  such 
a  time  series  should  be  built  up,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  remember  the  earlier  part  of  the 
series  until  the  end  should  be  reached.  Memory, 
thus,  is  an  essential  condition.  Professor  Titch- 
ener  says  that  time  begins  with  the  distinction 
of  a  "  not  yet"  and  a  "  no  more  "  consciousness. 
Past  and  future  are  ideal  constructions  within 
the  Now :  they  are  the  Now  pulled  out  at  both 
ends.  Or  the  Now  may  be  regarded  as  a  tele- 
scoping of  past  and  future  Thens.  Activity  is 
the  real  measure.  Time  is  measured,  not  so  much 
by  years,  days,  hours,  and  minutes,  as  by  meal- 
times, heart-throbs,  and  anticipated  pleasures  or 
pains. 

The   empirical   space   of   my  perception   is 


REALITY  273 

bounded   by   the   horizon ;   empirical   time   is 
bounded  by  memory.  The  Here  is  sand- 

•   1      1  1  mi  1       XT  Continuity 

wiched  between  two  ineres;  the  JNow,  andDis- 

CTfitfiQfiSS 

between  a  past  and  future  Then.  Math- 
ematical or  conceptual  space  and  time,  on  the 
other  hand,  are  not  concrete  aggregates,  but  bare 
relations.  The  difference  is  in  what  is  ignored. 
The  mathematical  conception  lays  exclusive  em- 
phasis upon  the  continuity  aspect,  while  in 
every-day  life  this  is  subordinated  to  the  par- 
ticularity of  the  discrete  objects  and  events  which 
constitute  their  content.  Antinomies  result  from 
the  attempt  to  conceive  empty  space  and  time 
apart  from  the  concrete  experience  where  they 
have  meaning.  We  cannot  perceive  empty  space 
and  time,  but  only  objects  and  events.  Pure 
space  and  time  are  artifacts  like  the  "  averao-e 
child"  or  the  "  economic  man."  They  are  valu- 
able devices  for  enablinof  science  to  formulate 
its  problems  and  to  facilitate  its  results,  but  the 
continuity,  homogeneity,  and  relativity  of  space 
and  time  can  have  only  a  functional  meaning. 

One  of  the  age-old  problems  of  science  has 
grown  out  of  the  false  isolation  of  consciousness 
and  time.  On  the  one  hand,  consciousness  is  re- 
garded as  a  product  of  evolution,  an  event  or 
stage  in  the  temporal  process.  On  the  other  side, 


274         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

there  is  a  sense  in  which  the  very  existence  of 
The  Para-  ^^^^  external  world  is  conditioned  by 
f^dcon-™*  consciousness.  An  object,  or  a  universe, 
sciousness.  ^jj^t  appears  to  no  one,  that  is  not  an 
object  of  knowledge  to  some  intelligent  being, 
is  non-existent.  Consciousness  seems  to  condition 
the  very  possibility  of  science.  How,  then,  can 
consciousness  be  a  relatively  late  product  of  bio- 
logical evolution?  If  time  (including  the  histor- 
ical development  of  science)  has  been  built  up 
in  consciousness,  how  can  consciousness  be  an 
evolution  in  time? 

The  solution  of  this  apparent  paradox  lies  in 
seeing  that  consciousness,  taken  apart  from  the 
Thesoiu-  organism  which  is  conscious,  is  not  an 
^°°-  entity  or  thing;  it  is  not  even  a  pro- 

cess— it  is  simply  logical  meaning  or  signifi- 
cance. Consciousness  taken  in  abstraction  from 
body,  like  function  conceived  apart  from  the 
organ  or  structure  which  functions,  signifies  no 
more  than  a  sum  of  relations  or  meanings.  The 
biologist  does  not  hypostasize  function  and  then 
conceive  it  to  act  causally  upon  structure.  Some 
biologists  have  attempted  to  conceive  of  the 
function  as  in  some  sense  preceding  structure. 
But  this  notion  has  been  called,  what  it  certainly 
must  remain,  when  stated  in  this  form,  the  bio- 


REALITY  275 

logical  paradox.  Its  paradoxical  nature  arises 
from  a  false  statement  of  the  problem.  It  is  as 
false  to  conceive  of  function  as  preceding  struc- 
ture as  to  conceive  of  structure  as  preceding 
function.  By  function  is  meant  orderly  contin- 
uous activity  with  reference  to  an  end,  and  this 
activity  consists  of  changes  in  structure.  Hence 
the  only  significance  of  function  over  and  above 
mere  structure  must  lie  in  the  end  subserved,  in 
the  meaning  of  these  changes,  in  the  signifi- 
cance of  this  order  and  continuity.  The  essen- 
tial idea  in  function  lies  in  the  use,  value,  or 
utiHty  of  the  structure  for  some  purpose.  The 
enigma  reduces,  therefore,  to  a  mere  verbal  fal- 
lacy. After  by  definition  abstracting  conscious- 
ness from  matter,  there  still  cling  to  our  psy- 
chological statements  traces  of  our  conceptions 
of  material  objects.  There  is  no  actual  conscious- 
ness apart  from  an  organism.  But  in  our  think- 
ing and  speaking  concerning  it  we  spHt  apart 
the  two  aspects  for  purposes  of  discussion.  They 
are  one,  but  in  the  very  act  of  saying  it  we 
make  them  two.  Any  thinking  or  speaking  is  a 
polarizing  into  two  aspects  in  thought  of  what 
is  an  undivided  unity  for  action.  This,  of  course, 
is  a  methodological,  not  an  ontological  dualism, 
and  hence  is  paradoxical  only  for  him  who  for- 


276         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

gets  its  origin.  If  this  important  point  is  kept  in 
mind,  the  apparent  contradiction  between  time 
and  consciousness  is  cleared  up.  Consciousness 
is  in  time  when  it  is  regarded  as  the  function- 
ing of  the  nervous  system.  Time  is  in  conscious- 
ness just  as  truly,  however,  when  consciousness 
is  regarded  as  the  bare  significance  or  meaning 
abstracted  from  its  existential  basis,  since  time, 
from  this  standpoint,  is  just  one  meaning  among 
others.  It  is  both  an  existence  and  a  meaning: 
an  existence  when  experience  is  viewed  as  the 
condition  of  getting  further  experience,  a  mean- 
ing when  experience  is  taken  relatively  in  and 
for  itself  as  an  already  achieved  value. 

Negatively,  space  and  time  stand  for  obstruc- 
tion and  resistance.  They  are  the  signs  of  rela- 
tive  inadequacy    in    experience.    An 

The  Prair-  x         •>  l 

mauc         object  is  an  obstacle ;  its  spatial  char- 

Meanlngof  ,        , 

Space  and  actcr  cmcrgcs  m  the  attempt  to  define 
and  control  it.  The  demand  for  time, 
>  Professor  Dewey  says,  is  the  result  of  the  lack 
of  unity  ;  it  is  a  yearning  for  the  next  moment 
of  experience.  Space  means  opportunity,  elbow- 
room,  scope  for  movement.  Time  means  capacity 
for  continued  realization  of  satisfactions,  the 
possibility  of  progress.  Space  is  the  simultaneity 
aspect,  time  the  succession  aspect,  of  the  tension 


REALITY  277 

in  which  the  consciousness  of  a  world  is  built 
up.  Objectivity  means  the  ability  to  state  expe- 
rience in  spatial,  temporal,  and  causal  terms  in 
such  a  way  as  to  give-  control  of  further  experi- 
ence. We  state  experience  as  process,  i.  e.  tem- 
porally, spatially,  and  causally,  only  when  it  is 
not  satisfactory.  When  it  is  fully  adequate  as 
in  the  case  of  instinct,  intuition,  habit,  aesthetic 
absorption,  these  distinctions  fade  away  or 
become  irrelevant.  The  attempt  to  state  it 
necessarily  gives  us  the  fragmentary  and  piece- 
meal view.  The  world  of  description  is  inevitably 
a  finite,  temporal,  spatial,  causal  world.  It  is 
the  world  of  appreciation  which  is  infinite,  eter- 
nal, and  absolute.  Experience  is  temporal  as 
long  as  it  is  a  process  of  search  or  strife.  It  is 
eternal  in  the  moments  of  relative  achievement 
and  consummation.  All  experience,  in  reality, 
is  both,  but  never  either  completely.  To  be 
merely  temporal  would  mean  a  mere  succession 
in  consciousness  with  no  consciousness  of  suc- 
cession. To  be  quite  utterly  absolute  or  eternal, 
would  telescope  time  into  a  mathematical  point 
which  would  be  the  same  as  no  time  at  all.  Time 
and  eternity,  temporal  process  and  timeless 
appreciation,  are  opposite  poles  within  which 
the  concrete  content  of  experience  revolves. 


278         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

The  popular  idea  of  cause  is  that  of  practical 
agency.  It  recognizes  only  productive  or  effi- 
cient activity;   causation  is  creation. 

The  Popu- 

larideaof     Cause  and  effect  are  interpreted  ulti- 
mately in  terms  of  personal  will  and 
voluntary  action;  a  caused  act  is  an  intended 
act.  Since  in  his  own  Hfe  the  naive  individual 
both  passively  suffers   and  actively   produces 
many  things  in  an  apparently  capricious  way, 
he  recognizes  similar  arbitrary  causes  and  effects 
in  nature  about  him.  Cause  seems  even  to  have 
had   an   ethical   significance,  the    same    word 
being  used  originally  for  blame,  fault,  respon- 
sibility. The  cause  was  the  thing  that  was  held 
accountable,  the  thing  one  had  to  reckon  with, 
and  which,  therefore,  it  was  desirable  to  con- 
trol. On  this  account  it  was  the  striking  event 
which  was  sintjled  out  as  the  cause  or  effect. 
Some  one  antecedent  or  consequent  was  taken 
as  standing   for  the  rest.  If  a  meteor  or  an 
eclipse  occurs  during  the  same  season  with  a 
pestilence,  the  one  comes  to  be  regarded  as  the 
cause  of  the  other.  There  is  a  tendency,  also, 
to  put  an  interval  between  the  cause  and  the 
effect,  some  prominent  event  being  selected  as 
the  cause  or  as  the  effect.  In  the  case  of  a  man 
who  is  shot,  the  bullet  or  the  pulling  of  the 


REALITY  279 

trigger  would  be  regarded  as  the  cause  and  the 
death  of  the  man  as  the  effect.  The  action  of 
the  cause,  furthermore,  is  regarded  as  sponta- 
neous and  free,  the  effect  following  mechani- 
cally upon  it.  It  is  conceived  after  the  analogy 
of  the  human  will  with  its  apparently  uncon- 
ditioned action. 

The  scientific  idea  of  causation  is  only  a  more 
critical  statement  of  the  practical  idea  of  effi- 
cacy. The  idea  of  unconditioned  action 

.  .  The  Sclen- 

is  STiven  up,  along:  with  the  anthropo-  tiiic  idea  of 
morphic  conception.  Its  personal  char- 
acter is  either  denied  outright  or  pushed  back 
to  an  assumed  beo-inning-  of  things  as  the  ere- 
ative  fiat  of  an  omnipotent  and  omniscient  be- 
ing. As  regards  sequence,  cause  and  effect,  as 
Mr.  Venn  says,  are  screwed  up  closer  together 
than  in  the  popular  conception ;  the  cause  is 
viewed  as  the  sum  of  the  conditions,  and  the 
effect  as  the  sum  of  the  results.  Mill  defines  a 
cause  as  "all  the  antecedents  to  an  event." 
The  state  of  the  pistol  and  the  powder,  the 
purpose  of  the  man  who  fired  it,  as  well  as  the 
state  of  the  organism  of  the  man  who  was  shot, 
are  all  parts  of  the  cause  ;  while  the  disturbance 
of  the  atmosphere,  the  sound  of  the  report,  and 
a  host  of  other  happenings,  are  part  of  the  effect. 


280         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

Scientific  method  seeks  to  show  the  precise 
proximate  events,  and  in  so  doing  is  driven 
to  enumerate  the  totality  of  the  conditions  on 
the  side  both  of  the  cause  and  of  the  effect. 
Still  again,  while  the  plain  man  is  apt  to  give 
preference  to  the  changing  element  in  a  situa- 
tion, the  man  of  science  recognizes  the  perma- 
nent factors  as  of  equal  importance-  The  reason 
the  variable  element  is  pounced  upon  as  the 
cause  by  the  man  of  affairs  is  its  practical  signifi- 
cance. But  to  gain  an  end  in  science  one  must 
discount  the  variables  by  controlling  them.  The 
man  of  science  sees  that  the  variable  is  no  more 
the  cause  of  the  effect  than  are  the  constant 
elements  in  the  situation ;  it  is  simply  more 
conspicuous  because  of  its  more  immediate 
emotional  or  practical  import.  He  therefore 
seeks  to  reduce  them  all  to  a  uniform  and  homo- 
geneous system,  in  order  that  he  may  see  clearly 
the  relation  of  each  factor  to  all  the  rest.  The 
popular  idea  is  thus  rendered  more  precise,  first, 
by  the  more  complete  enumeration  of  the  con- 
ditions, and  second,  by  the  closeness  of  the 
sequence  of  the  determining  cause  and  the 
resulting  effect. 

The  present  state  of  the  scientific  doctrine  of 
causation  is  far  from  being  a  consistent  one.  It 


REALITY  281 

embraces  the  ideas  of  sequence,  uniformity, 
necessity,  and  reciprocity,  with  no  clear 
analysis  of  the  mutual  implications  of  enciesof 
these  categories.  The  confusion  of  tuic  con- 
law  with  cause,  uniformity  with  pro- 
ductivity, has  been  one  of  the  most  prevalent 
fallacies  in  the  history  of  science.  Hume  showed 
us  that  we  cannot  argue  from  sequence  to 
necessary  connection.  The  idea  of  necessity  or 
constraint  is  not  derivable  from  the  mere  fact 
of  invariable  succession.  Men  have  come  to  see 
that  the  laws  of  science  are  not  forces,  that  the 
uniformity  of  nature  does  not  account  for  any- 
thing in  the  sense  of  efficient  causation :  these 
are  but  shorthand  descriptive  methods  of  stating 
the  fact  of  the  repetition  of  like  phenomena 
under  like  conditions.  Science  treats  of  condi- 
tions rather  than  of  causes.  She  confines  her 
inquiry  to  proximate,  phenomenal,  or  natural 
causes,  no  longer  seeking  to  state  the  nature  of 
the  ultimate,  noumenal,  or  metaphysical  ground 
or  reason  for  the  universe.  An  effect  is  resfarded 
as  produced  by  a  number  of  concurrent  causes, 
all  indispensable,  but  varying  in  importance 
when  regarded  from  different  points  of  view. 
When  one  is  emphasized  as  of  commanding  im- 
portance and  for  that  reason  called  the  cause. 


282         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

the  others  are  still  recognized  as  concomitant 
or  occasioning  causes. 

In  this  idea  lie  both  the  truth  and  the  defect 
of  the  scientific  conception  of  cause  and  effect. 
TheMeta-  ^^^  truth  is  fouud  in  the  idea  of  the 
werlfcau-  universe  as  a  system.  The  result  of 
sation.  ^jjg  closer  analysis  of  antecedents  and 
consequents  has  been  the  discovery  of  such  an 
amazing  plurality  of  causes  and  multiplicity  of 
effects  as  to  drive  men  of  science  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  complete  causal  explanation  of 
any  single  event  would  involve  all  the  rest  of 
the  universe.  The  complete  ground  of  any  one 
thing  could  be  found  only  in  the  entire  system 
in  which  it  is  an  element  or  member.  There  is 
just  one  immense  fact  with  immanent  distribu- 
tion and  redistribution  of  parts.  Causation  thus 
becomes  a  simple  equation  of  the  total  sum  of 
conditions  with  the  total  sum  of  results ;  the 
whole  universe,  in  which  the  bullet  is  but  a 
single  condition,  equals  the  whole  universe  in 
which  the  death  of  the  man  is  but  a  part  of 
the  result.  Causation  means  identity,  intercon- 
vertibility,  reciprocity.  All  action  is  interaction. 
Since  the  idea  of  creation  out  of  nothing  is 
rejected,  and  sequence  is  reduced  to  coexist- 
ence, causal  explanation  as  employed  in  the  his- 


REALITY  283 

torical  sciences  gives  place  to  an  equational 
form  of  statement  implying  mutual  determina- 
tion :  given  such  and  such  conditions  and  such 
and  such  results  follow.  If  such  and  such  is 
given,  then  such  and  such  already  is.  The  up- 
shot is  that  scientists  have  come  to  hold  that 
the  goal  of  true  science  is  to  state  its  laws  in 
the  form  of  mathematical  equations,  and  the 
ideas  of  conservation  and  convertibility  are  sub- 
stituted for  sequence  and  evolution. 

But  is  not  this  paying  too  high  a  price  for 
the  values  received?  In  reducing  all  the  facts  of 
nature  to  terms  of  a  perfectly  homoo^e- 

.  .  Defects  ol 

neous  and  continuous  series,  physical  Natural- 
science  has  neglected  to  remember  that 
in  the  world  of  our  actual  experience  no  two 
objects  or  events  are  ever  precisely  alike.  Each 
fresh  individual  thing,  whether  it  be  this  new- 
blown  rose,  this  child's  happy  voice,  or  this 
rending  pain,  is  a  unique  phenomenon.  None 
has  ever  occurred  or  ever  will  occur  just  like  it. 
The  uniformity,  invariability,  identity,  which 
science  finds  in  the  universe  is  an  abstraction 
which  has  truth  only  when  used  as  a  logical 
tool  for  dealing  economically  and  comprehen- 
sively with  the  infinite  variety  of  details  which 
constitutes  the  actual  world.  Causation  is  mere 


284         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

identity,  integration,  no  more  than  it  is  mere 
diversity  or  difPerentiation ;  it  is  both  at  once. 
If  you  resolve  causality  into  the  mere  relation  of 
identity,  you  eliminate  the  very  thing  to  be  ex- 
plained—  the  difference  of  the  effect  from  its 
cause.  When  science  results  in  naturalism  and 
materialism  she  falls  a  victim  to  the  dangerous 
machinery  of  her  own  magnificent  technique. 
The  problem  of  the  relation  of  mind  and  matter 
is  a  test  case.  The  popular  consciousness  had  no 
difficulty  in  conceiving  either  body  or  mind  as 
cause  or  as  effect,  according  to  the  exigencies  of 
the  situation.  But  when  the  relations  between 
brain  and  consciousness  came  to  be  more  closely 
examined  by  scientific  methods,  theory  was 
driven  to  a  doctrine  of  psychophysical  paral- 
lelism. This,  in  principle,  is  an  identity  doctrine, 
while  at  the  same  time  it  seeks  (inconsistently) 
to  retain  the  distinction  between  cause  and  effect. 
When  the  ultimate  identity  of  the  two  worlds 
is  emphasized,  it  takes  a  monistic  form,  mate- 
riahstic  or  spiritualistic,  according  to  whether 
the  stress  is  put  upon  the  objective  or  the  sub- 
jective aspect.  When  the  emphasis  is  placed  upon 
the  disparateness  and  incomparability  of  the 
two  realms,  the  causal  relation  is  either  pushed 
back  to  the  absolute  beg^innino:  of  things  where 


REALITY  285 

a  harmony  is  miraculously  preestablished  by  the 
decree  of  God,  or  it  remains  an  unexplained 
mystery.  To  such  lengths  has  scientific  theory 
been  forced  by  the  demands  of  its  rigid  separa- 
tion of  the  world  of  thoughts  and  the  world  of 
things.  One  has  only  to  follow  the  history  of  the 
doctrine  of  psychical  causality  —  an  attempt  to 
rehabilitate  physical  causation  in  psychological 
terms  —  to  realize  the  need  of  a  complete  recon- 
struction of  concepts  in  this  field. 

Now  what  does  this  analysis  suggest  except 
the  wholly  functional  character  of  the  distinc- 
tion between  cause  and  effect :  as  the  „^  ^ 

Tne  Prag- 

idea  of  efiicient  causation  or  produc-  ina«c  The- 

i  017  of  Cause 

tive  agency  is  reducible  to  the  idea  of  andEtiect. 
reciprocity  or  system,  so  the  idea  of  transmis- 
sive  or  material  causation  (identity)  is  reducible 
to  creative  or  efiicient  causation  —  evolution. 
Change  does  not  explain  itself,  and  change  is 
the  most  fundamental  fact  of  the  actual  world, 
from  a  study  of  which  the  man  of  science  has 
arrived  at  his  principle  of  identity  and  of  nature 
as  a  closed  system.  Necessary  causation,  as  Pro- 
fessor Dewey  has  shown,  is  simply  teleology 
read  backwards.  The  burning  of  the  match  and 
the  lighting  of  the  gas  are  ordinarily  regarded 
as  successive.  But  as  loag:  as  the  burnius:  of  the 


286         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

match  is  really  antecedent,  it  is  not  cause ;  it 
must  enter  into  and  actually  become  the  effect, 
in  order  to  be  cause.  The  cause  is  not  itself  fully 
cause  until  the  effect  is  complete.  The  total 
system  which  includes  both  is  essential  to  the 
adequate  statement  of  either  as  such. 

Professor  Dewey  illustrates  this  as  follows. 

Let  us  suppose  a  conflagration.  This  presents 

itself  to  us  as  a  unitary  experience.  The 

Illustration     .  j  r>  •  i 

ofaconiia-  housc,  water,  nre-engmes,  nose,  men, 
screams,  might  be  individualities  under 
other  circumstances,  but  here  they  are  parts  or 
elements  in  a  total  situation.  Suppose  you  are 
the  person  whose  house  is  being  consumed,  or 
suppose  you  are  the  fireman.  As  long  as  you 
are  engaged  in  this  situation,  your  reflections 
and  judgments  go  on  within  the  conflagration- 
experience.  But  suppose,  as  the  fire  dies  down 
and  the  climax  of  the  excitement  passes,  that 
you  were  to  ask  :  "  How  did  this  fire  originate  ? 
Why  was  there  a  fire  ?  "  Then  your  thinking 
passes  relatively  without  the  situation  into  an- 
other attitude.  The  conflagration  is  no  longer 
an  immediate  total  experience,  but  an  element 
or  factor  in  a  larger  whole.  It  is  taken  as  a 
given  effect  for  which  you  are  seeking  the 
cause.  In  another  instance  it  might  be  taken  as 


REALITY  287 

the  given  cause  for  which  you  were  seeking  the 
possible  QT  probable  effects. 

In  the  objective  world  there  are  no  limits  to 
this  conflagration ;  it  does  not  begin  or  end  at 
any  particular  place.  It  does  not  stop  with  this 
house,  this  street,  this  city,  the  solar  system. 
In  physical  science  the  facts  of  the  universe 
form  a  continuum,  and  this  phenomenon  of 
combustion  here  disturbs  the  dynamic  system 
of  the  cosmos  to  its  remotest  atom.  It  is  my  in- 
terest which  leads  me  to  take  something  as  an 
effect,  and  makes  me  curious  to  find  out  what 
might  have  been  its  cause,  the  reasons  for  its 
occurring  just  as  it  did.  To  take  the  conflagra- 
tion as  a  result  means  to  treat  it  as  incom- 
plete, as  partial.  To  a  person  engaged  within 
the  conflagration  it  is  a  whole.  But  the  mo- 
ment he  takes  it  as  an  effect  he  assumes  that  it 
is  incomplete.  He  does  not  understand  how  it 
happened.  He  has  the  terminal  stage  of  the 
event  but  not  the  initial  stage.  He  wants  to 
know  the  whole  system  to  which  this  belongs : 
"  Was  it  an  incendiary,  or  a  defective  flue  ? 
Did  the  fire  catch  from  the  hearth,  or  how  did 
it  originate  ?  " 

Here  is  the  apparent  antinomy  of  cause  and 
effect.  Viewed  in  one  aspect,  the  conflagration 


288         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

is  a  concrete  individual  experience,  —  an  effect,  — 
but  an  unsatisfactory  because  partial  experience, 
and  I  am  seeking  for  anotber  concrete  individ- 
ual experience,  say  tbe  incendiary  or  tbe  defec- 
tive flue,  as  tbe  cause.  In  anotber  aspect,  bow- 
ever,  tbese  two  experiences  are  not  discrete  but 
continuous ;  tbe  defective  flue  and  tbe  burning 
bouse  are  simply  earlier  and  later  stages  of  one 
fact  —  and,  if  one  cares  to,  be  may  go  on  infi- 
nitely into  tbe  past  and  future  in  tbe  statement 
of  tbe  initial  stages  or  conditions  and  tbe  ter- 
minal stages  or  results  of  tbis  conflagration. 
Tbe  first  inning  of  a  baseball  game  comes  be- 
fore tbe  last  inning,  but  it  is  not  regarded  as 
its  cause.  Tbe  defective  flue  is  not  tbe  cause  of 
tbe  fire  except  in  a  popular  sense.  It  migbt  lie 
forever  on  tbe  sands  of  tbe  Sabara  or  in  tbe  bot- 
tom of  tbe  sea  witbout  being  tbe  cause  of  a  con- 
flagration. It  is  its  presence  in  tbis  particular 
situation,  cooperating  witb  tbese  otber  condi- 
tions —  just  next  to  tbat  wooden  beam,  witb  an 
overbeated  furnace,  wben  tbe  janitor  was  away, 
etc.  —  wbicb  makes  it,  not  the  cause,  but  tbe 
occasion  or  exciting  cause,  tbe  keystone  in  tbe 
causal  arcb,  so  to  speak. 

To  take  anytbing  as  an  effect,  in  otber  words, 
is  to  take  it  as  an  end.  To  take  anytbing  as  a 


REALITY  289 

cause  is  to  take  it  as  a  condition  or  means.  The 
■whole  purport  of  the  conception  of  means  and 
ends  is  that  we  have  a  certain  experience  and 
we  wish  to  get  another,  and  the  aim,  as  an  end, 
is  set  off  as  distinct  from  the  means  that  are  at 
hand  to  realize  it.  To  use  anything  as  a  means 
implies  a  series  of  graded  steps  by  which  we  can 
pass  from  the  means  to  the  end.  If  we  take  the 
point  of  view  either  of  the  continuity  or  of  the 
discreteness  of  the  situation,  alone,  we  get  nei- 
ther cause  nor  effect.  The  point  of  view  of  dis- 
creteness, if  taken  absolutely,  would  give  two 
different  and  wholly  unrelated  experiences.  If 
we  take  continuity  absolutely,  we  get  just  one 
continuous  unbroken  whole,  a  distinctionless 
identity.  The  solution  of  the  antinomy  lies  in 
seeing  that  the  standpoint  of  continuity  is  the 
intellectual  point  of  view,  and  is  instrumental 
to  the  standpoint  of  discreteness,  the  practical 
point  of  view,  and  that  the  two  can  no  more 
be  divorced  than  thought  and  action  or  theory 
and  practice.  The  intellectual  grows  out  of  the 
practical  and  finds  its  significance  in  the  rede- 
termination of  the  practical. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

EVOLUTION  AND  THE  ABSOLUTE 

§  28.  CONSERVATION  VERSUS  EVOLUTION 

Two  principles  of  modern  science — conserva- 
tion and  evolution  —  seem  to  come  into  fatal 
conflict.  It  appears  as  if  we  were  driven 

Conserra-  ^  ^ 

tionor        to  accept  one  of  two  alternatives:  the 
universe  is  either  a  closed  system  or  a 
progressive  growth.    Yet  either  view  taken  by 
itself  involves  us  in  grave  difficulties. 

The  arofuments  for  the  former  alternative  are 
found  in  the  facts  and  law  of  conservation  of 
energy,  upon  which  is  based  the  mechanical 
theory  of  nature.  The  arguments  for  the  latter 
are  found  in  the  facts  and  law  of  growth,  which 
seem  to  support  a  teleological  interpretation  of 
the  universe.  On  the  one  side,  we  are  compelled 
to  conceive  of  the  world  as  a  completed  whole 
and  to  regard  all  apparent  evolution  as  simply 
redistribution  of  parts  with  no  increase  in 
amount.  This  is  the  doctrine  of  the  conserva- 
tion and  convertibility  of  energy.  There  is 
nothing  new  under  the  sun.    There  is  nothing 


EVOLUTION  AND  THE  ABSOLUTE  291 

quantitatively  new  because  there  can  be  no  ad- 
dition to  the  sum  of  existence.  And  there  can 
be  nothing  qualitatively  new  because  all  differ- 
ences of  quality  ultimately  reduce  to  differences 
of  degree  or  quantity. 

On  the  other  side,  we  have  the  doctrine  of 
evolution.  It  appears  as  if  things  came  to  he 
what  they  are.     It  seems  as  if  at  first 

•J  _  Evolntion 

they  were  not  and  later  came  into  ex-  orse- 

Quence. 

istence  by  a  process  of  development. 
Growth  from  childhood  to  maturity  seems  to  be 
a  process  of  becoming,  in  which  something  which 
was  not  enters  into  being,  in  which  something 
comes  out  of  nothing.  If  evolution  is  not  to 
mean  mere  universal  undulation  —  a  cosmic 
game  of  hide-and-seek  —  then  in  progress  there 
must  always  be  an  increment,  a  reinforcement. 
But  when  we  seek  to  generalize  this  idea  for  the 
universe  at  laro-e  in  a  doctrine  of  absolute  evo- 
lution  or  creation  ex  nihilo,  it  is  rejected  as 
irrational  and  absurd.  The  whole  history  of  sci- 
ence has  been  a  search  for  the  causes  of  things, 
and  to  suppose  that  some  things  are  uncaused, 
produced  out  of  the  void  as  by  magic,  is  to  make 
science  either  a  tragedy  or  a  farce. 

This  is  the  problem  of  essence  versus  origin, 
of  being  versus  becoming,  —  a  problem  which 


292         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

has  divided  schools  of  philosophy  from  the  be- 
ime  ginning   of   reflective   thought.     The 

Antinomy.  « conception  of  the  eternity  of  the 
forms  of  things,"  says  Professor  Royce,  ^'  is,  his- 
torically considered,  by  far  the  most  significant 
opponent  that  the  philosophical  doctrine  of  evo- 
lution has  had  or  ever  can  have."  Is  reality  eter- 
nal, complete,  perfect,  and  the  appearance  of 
change  and  evolution  merely  illusory,  or  is  it 
what  on  the  surface  it  appears  to  be,  a  dynamic 
progressive  achievement  in  which  reality  liter- 
ally comes  into  being  for  the  first  time  from 
moment  to  moment  by  the  voluntary  act  of  in- 
telligent and  free  agents  ?  Is  it  a  block  universe 
with  all  its  events  predetermined  from  the  first, 
or  is  it  an  indeterminate  equation  some  of 
whose  elements  are  conditioned  upon  facts  not 
yet  come  to  light?  Here  is  the  dilemma.  We 
cannot  believe  that  something  has  evolved  out 
of  nothing.  This  strikes  at  the  rationality  of 
the  universe  ;  it  contradicts  the  best  established 
principles  of  science.  But  to  regard  the  uni- 
verse as  a  completed  system  strikes  at  its  mor- 
ality, because  it  destroys  all  possibility  of 
progress,  initiative,  freedom,  and  responsibility. 
The  problem  of  the  absolute  origin  of  any- 
thing is  one  of  the  time-honored  puzzles  of  meta- 


EVOLUTION  AND  THE  ABSOLUTE     293 

physics.  We,  of  course,  see  beginnings  and 
endings  of  events  or  processes,  in  a  relative  sense. 
But  to  conceive  of  a  time  in  the  past  when 
nothing  whatever  existed,  or  of  a  time  in  the 
future  when  nothing  will  exist,  seems  not  only 
beyond  our  poAvers  of  thought  but  actually  self- 
contradictory.  It  seems  to  follow  that  because 
something  is,  something  always  has  been  and 
always  will  be.  Apparently  the  conceptions  of 
being  and  non-being  are  mutually  incompatible. 
The  question  of  the  origin  of  a  thing,  as  Pro- 
fessor Baldwin  has  shown,  cannot  be  considered 
apart  from  the  question  of  the  nature 
of  the  thing-.  "The  nature — the^what'     versus 

....  ,         "  Origin." 

—  of  a  thing  is  given  in,  and  only  in, 
its  behavior,  i.  e.  in  the  process  or  changes 
through  which  it  passes."  A  thing  is  what  it 
does.  Its  reality  is  exhausted  in  the  statement 
of  its  functions.  Now  this  behavior  is  not  a  fixed, 
finished-up  event.  It  is  a  continuous,  progres- 
sive process.  "  A  mere  lump  would  remain  a 
lump,  and  never  become  a  thing,  if,  to  adhere 
to  our  phenomenal  way  of  speaking,  it  did  not 
pass  through  a  series  of  changes.  A  thing  must 
have  a  career."  Its  full  reality  does  not  appear 
in  a  mere  cross-section;  it  comes  out  only  in  a 
longitudinal  view  of  the  process.   "The  strict 


294         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

adherence  to  the  definition  of  a  thing  in  terms 
of  behavior,  therefore,  would  seem  to  require 
that  we  should  wait  for  the  changes  to  go  through 
a  part  at  least  of  their  progress  —  for  the  career 
to  be  unrolled,  at  least  in  part.  Inimediate  de- 
scription gives,  so  far  as  it  is  truly  immediate,  no 
science,  no  real  thing  with  any  richness  of  con- 
tent; it  gives  merely  the  snap-object  of  the 
child."  The  "what,"  therefore,  can  be  stated 
only  in  terms  of  the  "how,"  the  existence  only 
in  terms  of  the  growth  of  the  thing.  "Any 
*  what '  whatever  is  in  large  measure  made  up 
of  judgments  based  upon  experiences  of  the 
*how. '"  Statements  of  the  existence  of  the 
thing  are  ultimately  simply  abbreviated  state- 
ments of  the  method  of  its  operation. 

The  question  arises  then,  "  How  far  back  in 
the  career  of  the  thing  is  it  necessary  to  go  to 
call  the  halting-place  '  origin '  ?  "  "  How  much 
of  a  thing's  career  belongs  to  its  origin  ?  "  It  is 
clear  "  that  origin  is  always  a  reading  of  part  of 
the  very  career  which  is  the  content  of  the  con- 
cept of  the  nature  of  the  thing."  How  far  back 
must  we  unroll  this  record  of  the  behavior  of  the 
thing  to  get  the  origin  of  the  thing?  So  "the 
question  before  us  seems  to  resolve  itself  into  the 
task  of  finding  somewhere  in  the  thing's  history 


EVOLUTION  AND  THE  ABSOLUTE     295 

a  line  which  divides  its  career  up  to  the  present 
into  two  parts — one  properly  described  as  ori- 
gin, and  the  other  not.  Now  on  the  view  of  the 
naturalist  pure  and  simple  there  can  be  no  such 
line.  For  the  attempt  to  construe  a  thing  en- 
tirely in  terms  of  history,  entirely  in  the  retro- 
spective categories,  would  make  it  impossible  for 
him  to  stop  at  any  point  and  say,  ^  This  far  back 
is  nature  and  further  back  is  origin ' ;  for  at 
that  point  the  question  might  be  asked  of  him, 
*  What  is  the  content  of  the  career  which  de- 
scribes the  thing's  origin  ?  '  —  and  he  would 
have  to  reply  in  exactly  the  same  way  that  he 
did  if  we  asked  him  the  same  question  regarding 
the  thing's  nature  at  that  point.  He  would  have 
to  say  that  the  origin  of  the  thing  observed  later 
was  described  by  career  up  to  that  point ;  and 
is  not  that  exactly  the  reply  he  would  give  if  we 
asked  him  what  the  thing  was  which  then  was? 
So  to  get  any  reply  as  to  the  question  of  the 
origin  of  one  thing  different  from  that  to  the 
question  of  nature  at  an  earlier  stage,  he  would 
have  to  go  still  further  back.  But  this  would  only 
repeat  his  difficulty.  So  he  never  would  be  able 
to  distinguish  between  origin  and  nature  except 
as  different  terms  for  describing  different  sections 
of  one  continuous  series  of  aspects  of  behavior." 


296         PRINCrPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

§    29.   THE   QUESTION   OF   ABSOLUTE   ORIGIN 

In  other  words,  the  answer  to  the  question 

as  to  what  we  mean  by  origin  is  that  this  point 

is  determined  wholly  by  the  need  or  in- 

Orlgln  . 

Is  not  terest  or  purpose  of  the  investigation. 
Origin  is  not  ultimate.  There  is  no 
such  thing  as  an  absolute  beginning  of  any- 
thing. The  origin  of  a  thing  is  always  its  be- 
ginning with  reference  to  a  certain  end.  The 
end  and  the  beginning  cannot  be  separated 
except  methodologically.  They  are  complemen- 
tary concepts.  Origins  take  place  continually, 
and  ends  or  values  are  achieved  continually. 
As  Professor  Baldwin  says :  "  The  only  way 
to  treat  the  problem  of  ultimate  origin  is  not  to 
ask  it,  as  an  isolated  problem,  but  to  reach  a 
category  which  intrinsically  resolves  the  opposi- 
tion between  the  two  phases  of  reality."  Or,  as 
Mr.  Hobhouse  says :  "  No  event  begins  or  ends  ; 
but  a  process  goes  on  which  passes  gradually 
from  one  phase  into  another.  We  ticket  promi- 
nent or  clearly  distinct  phases  with  separate 
names,  and  speak  of  them  as  different  events ; 
but  we  must  remember  that,  though  in  one 
sense  they  are  different,  there  is  yet  no  barrier." 
Or  as  he  says  in  another  place :  "  Reality  is  or 


EVOLUTION  AND  THE  ABSOLUTE     297 

includes  a  time  process.  Now  if  we  take  any 
time  process  and  consider  its  beginning,  we  are 
dealing  with  a  partial  fact,  and  for  every  par- 
tial fact  thought  demands  an  explanation  which 
will  connect  it  with  reality  as  a  whole.  For  the 
cause  of  the  origin  of  a  process,  then,  we  may 
look  in  two  directions,  to  its  results  or  to  its  an- 
tecedents. If  we  look  to  the  latter,  we  are  clearly 
going  outside  the  process.  But  if  the  process  is 
one  in  which  the  whole  nature  of  our  ultimate 
system  is  to  be  expressed,  we  cannot  go  outside  it 
without  denying  the  claim  of  our  system  to  be 
complete.  We  are  therefore  thrown  forward  to- 
wards the  results  of  this  system.  But  neither 
can  the  purpose  achieved  by  the  process  stand 
alone,  for  the  necessity  of  the  process  must  also 
be  made  plain.  If  an  unconditional  purpose 
were  the  secret  of  the  universe,  there  could  be  no 
explanation  of  the  means,  the  process,  and  the 
effort  through  which  the  purpose  is  realized. 
From  the  conception  of  purpose,  then,  we  are 
again  thrown  back  on  origins,  just  as  these  throw 
us  forward  to  their  purpose.  We  have,  in  short, 
to  conceive  a  single  principle  not  realized  in  full 
in  anyone  phase,  but  pervading  the  whole  world 
process.  In  this  principle,  the  possible  and  the 
actual  in  a  sense  come  together,  for  what  it  is  to 


298         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

be  is  an  integral  condition  that  goes  to  make  the 
■world  what  it  is.  We  cannot  take  any  phase  of 
reality  as  an  absolute  starting-point  and  regard 
it  as  determining  everything  that  follows  upon 
it  mechanically,  or  everything  that  precedes  it 
teleologically.  If  we  conceive  any  process  as 
making  up  the  life  of  an  intelligible  world-whole, 
we  must  conceive  its  origin  and  issue  as  depend- 
ent on  and  implying  one  another.  That  is,  we 
must  conceive  it  as  determined  organically." 

It  is  impossible  to  think  of  the  universe  as  a 
whole  in  an  absolute  sense.  We  use  the  words, 
unityisnot  ^^^  ^^^J  ^ave  a  defensible  meaning; 
Absolute.  1^^^  ^Yiey  do  not  mean  what  they  seem 
to  in  discussions  of  this  sort.  When  we  speak 
of  the  totality  of  the  universe,  the  totality  of 
which  we  speak  is  such  only  from  the  particular 
point  of  view  implied  in  the  discussion.  The 
very  fact  that  we  so  conceive  it  is  sufficient  evi- 
dence that  it  is  not  limited  in  an  absolute  sense, 
for  in  thus  conceiving  it  we  have  ourselves  in 
some  sense  transcended  it.  The  concept  of  unity 
as  applied  to  the  universe  has  therefore  only  a 
relative  truth.  It  is  true  only  in  the  light  of  the 
correlative  concept  of  continuity.  That  is,  the 
distinction  contained  in  the  dilemma  of  essence 
versus  origin  is  a  functional  one.  One  horn  of 


EVOLUTION  AND  THE  ABSOLUTE     299 

the  dilemma  expresses  a  truth,  the  truth  of  the 
unity  of  the  universe  as  a  system,  a  truth  which, 
however,  is  true  only  when  interpreted  in  rela- 
tion to  the  other  horn  of  the  dilemma,  which 
emphasizes  the  self-transcending  character  of 
this  same  system.  Reality  is  a  state  only  when 
viewed  relatively  as  the  culmination  of  a  past 
process  or  as  the  source  of  a  future  one,  while 
the  essence  of  things  is  got  by  telescoping  what 
they  have  been  and  what  they  are  to  be  into*a 
relatively  timeless  present  value. 

Thus  viewed,  the  antithesis  of  conservation 
and    evolution   disappears.    According  to   the 
conservation  doctrine,  there  is  no  ad- 
dition to  the  sum   of  existence.    The  tionoioie 

1  1    J?      i.  •      J.1  ^    j^'  Antinomy. 

only  novel  leature  is  the  new  relation 
in  which  the  existent  stands.  By  redistribution 
of  forces  there  is  an  evolution  of  new  meaning's 
with  no  addition  to  the  substance  or  reality. 
But,  one  may  say,  a  new  meaning  adds  some- 
thing to  the  sum  total  of  the  universe.  And 
thus  the  doctrine  of  conservation  seems  to  be 
infringed.  The  reply  is  that  the  meaning  here 
becomes  an  existence  just  by  reason  of  the 
fact  that  it  is  treated  in  this  instance  as  a  mean- 
ing taking  its  place  along  with  other  meanings 
in  a  system.  Meaning  as  meaning  is  not  an  in- 


300         PRINCIPLES  OF   PRAGMATISM 

crement,  for  it  is  universal.  It  is  not  the  last 
member  of  a  series ;  it  is  the  whole  system  re- 
constituted. It  is  inevitable  that  meaning  shall 
be  taken  as  existence  in  this  sense,  but  thus 
viewed  there  is  no  real  contradiction  between 
the  doctrines  of  conservation  and  evolution. 
Each  concept  has  signijficance  only  in  relation 
to  the  other.  The  evolution  of  meaning  is  the 
condition  of  the  conservation  of  existence,  just 
as  truly  as  the  conservation  of  existence  is  the 
condition  of  its  having  meaning.  When  science 
"wishes  to  cure  a  disease,  she  assumes  the  uni- 
formity of  the  system  within  which  she  is  work- 
ing—  the  conservation  of  its  existence,  its 
matter  or  energy.  It  assumes  that  enteric  epi- 
thelium performed  the  same  function  a  thousand 
years  ago  that  it  does  to-day.  It  goes  back  into 
phyletic  history  and  traces  the  evolution  of  the 
vermiform  appendix  for  the  sake  of  controlling 
the  diseased  state  of  that  organ  in  the  present 
case.  The  historical  or  evolutionary  principle 
presupposes  conservation  in  its  genetic  state- 
ment, while  in  turn  the  conservation  idea  would 
remain  barren  and  abstract  were  it  not  for  the 
element  of  change  which  is  introduced  by  evo- 
lution. It  follows  that  the  distinction  of  the 
closed  versus  the  open  system  is  not  a  fixed 


EVOLUTION  AND  THE  ABSOLUTE     301 

one,  but  one  set  up  within  reality  or  experience; 
and  therefore  it  is  illegitimate  to  attempt  to  in- 
terpret the  totality  of  the  universe  exclusively 
in  terms  of  either  one  of  the  pair  of  abstractions. 

§  30.    EVOLUTIONISM 

An  examination  from  this  point  of  view  of 
the  two  opposed  types  of  philosophy  known  as 
evolutionism  and  absolutism  will  dis-  The  Mo- 
close  the  real  interdependence  of  the  t^^^^j 
half-truths  for  which  they  respectively  Evolution, 
stand.  Evolutionism,  as  embodied  in  Spencer's 
philosophy,  seeks  to  explain  the  complex  in 
terms  of  the  simple,  what  is  in  terms  of  what 
no  longer  exists.  It  derives  the  definite  from 
the  indefinite,  the  coherent  from  the  incoherent, 
the  heterosreneous  from  the  homog-eneous.  But 
evolution  thus  interpreted  conducts  us  back 
ultimately  through  less  and  less  complex  modes 
of  existence  until  we  come  to  a  hypothetical 
beginning  which  must  be  simply  zero.  Viewed 
in  this  way,  it  would  appear  that  the  marvelous 
variety  of  the  universe  as  we  know  it  to-day 
has  developed  out  of  primitive  nebulous  haze 
or  finally  from  an  absolutely  simple  beginning 
which  is  in  no  way  different  from  a  blank  no- 
thing.   At  the  absolute  beginning   of  things, 


302         PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 

from  the  point  of  view  of  a  purely  mechanical 
theory  of  evolution,  being  equals  nothing.  To 
this  result  we  are  forced  if  we  look  alone  on 
that  aspect  in  which  it  appears  that  the  later, 
more  highly  differentiated,  have  unfolded  from 
the  earlier  less  complex  types  of  being. 

Such  we  might  suppose  would  have  been  the 
method  by  which  Spencer  arrived  at  his  con- 
clusion that  the  ultimate  nature  of  the  universe 
is  essentially  unknowable.  But,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  he  develops  an  entirely  different  line  of 
argument,  completely  overlooking  this  most 
natural  basis  for  the  doctrine.  He  grounds  his 
philosophy  of  the  Unknowable  on  the  epistemo- 
logical  theory  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge. 
And  instead  of  recognizing  the  nihilistic  impli- 
cation of  his  mechanical  conception  of  evolu- 
tion, he  inconsistently  postulates  the  instability 
of  the  homogeneous.  That  is,  he  postulates  di- 
versity in  the  primal  unity  with  which  he  starts 
the  evolutionary  process,  whereas,  on  his  own 
presuppositions,  he  is  logically  entitled  only  to 
an  abstract  and  therefore  empty  unity.  It  is 
not  so  strange,  therefore,  that  he  finally  takes 
out  of  the  bag  what  he  originally  put  in. 

But  apart  from  the  inconsistencies  in  Spen- 
cer's particular  system,  the  mechanical  theory 


EVOLUTION   AND  THE  ABSOLUTE     303 

of  evolution  is  indefensible  on  general  grounds, 
whenever  in  the  form  of  an  agnostic  naturalism 
it  purports  to  give  a  philosophy  of  nature.  It 
is  impossible  to  state  the  theory  in  an  intelli- 
gible form  without  introducing  teleological  con- 
siderations. The  scientist  with  positivist  lean- 
ings glibly  says  that  his  business  is  to  get  at 
the  facts.  But  how  does  he  get  the  facts?  By 
causal  analysis,  he  will  reply.  But  he  here  in- 
consistently introduces  the  teleological  point 
of  view.  For,  as  we  have  seen,  the  only  way  to 
find  out  what  is,  is  to  find  out  how  it  came  to 
be  and  what  it  will  do.  The  only  strictly  me- 
chanical statements  of  law  are  in  the  form  of 
equations ;  and  the  philosophical  scientist  will 
himself  admit  that  these  are  but  conceptual 
shorthand  for  serial  operations  which  are  shot 
through  and  through  with  purpose. 

The  only  antidote  to  a  mechanical  evolu- 
tionism is  a  deeper,  more  organic  interpreta- 
tion of  evolution  itself.  Evolution  is  .pi^g 
ordinarily  conceived  as  a  movement  Theory^oi^ 
between  fixed  limits,  a  progress  from  Evoiuuon. 
a  definite  starting-point  to  a  definite  goal.  But 
in  a  true  conception  the  starting-point  and  the 
goal  are  not  fixed.  The  ideas  of  beginning  and 
end  are  wholly   relative  to  the  process  from 


304         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

which  they  are  abstractions.  We  must  inter- 
pret the  faintest  beginnings  of  growth  in  terms 
of  the  ripest  result  as  well  as  the  later  stages  in 
terms  of  the  earlier.  I  have  not  explained  any- 
thing by  simply  tracing  its  connections  with 
preexisting  entities  —  by  an  account  of  its  gen- 
esis. I  have  not  fully  explained  it  until  I  have 
also  disclosed  its  use,  its  function,  in  the  present 
and  in  that  career  yet  to  be  unrolled  of  which 
Mr.  Baldwin  speaks.  If  the  former  be  called 
the  mechanical  explanation,  it  must  be  supple- 
mented by  the  latter,  the  teleological.  Strictly 
speaking,  these  cannot  be  separated.  Genesis 
cannot  be  explained  except  by  reference  to 
function,  and  function  can  be  understood  only 
in  the  light  of  genesis.  "  The  ultimate  inter- 
pretation even  of  the  lowest  existence,"  says 
Dr.  Caird,  "  cannot  be  given  except  on  princi- 
ples which  are  adequate  to  explain  the  highest." 
"  The  true  meaning  of  the  lowest  phases  of 
evolution  can  be  found  only  in  the  highest,  just 
as  the  meaning  of  the  acorn  can  be  found  only 
in  the  full-grown  oak.  .  .  .  The  first  step  will 
not  be  fully  understood  until  the  last  is  taken, 
which  will  never  be."  Why  there  should  be 
reality  and  progress  at  all  is  doubtless  a  mys- 
tery. But  meanwhile  the  truth  seems  to  be  that 


EVOLUTION  AND  THE  ABSOLUTE     305 

both  empiricism  and  absolutism  are  in  a  sense 
true. 

§    31.   ABSOLUTISM 

The  essential  feature  of  absolutism,  as  em- 
bodied, for  example,  in  the  systems  of  Mr.  Brad- 
ley and  Professor  Royce,  consists  in  its  ^^^ 
doctrine  of  an  eternal  or  timeless  real-  ^^j^^^J 
ity.  Both  these  writers  rightly  maintain 
that  reality  is  experience,  but  they  insist  that 
all  the  diversity  of  the  universe  as  we  know  it 
is  taken  up  into  an  absolute  experience.  They 
say  much  that  is  suggestive  and  inspiring ;  but 
the  difficulty  with  both  theories  (and  they  are 
the  best  exponents  of  this  point  of  view)  is  that 
they  seem  to  think  of  the  absolute  reahty  as 
all-inclusive  and  all-exhaustive  in  the  sense  of 
being  already  completed,  —  there  once  for  all 
wound  up  or  frozen  into  a  solid  block  of  per- 
fection. 

The  greatest  difficulty  of  the  absolutist  is  how 
to  get  variety,  change,  and  finite  values  into  his 
eternal  realitv  without  infectino^  it  with  their 
phenomenal  character.  How,  if  the  Absolute  is 
such  as  he  describes  it,  can  there  be  any  finite 
at  all  ?  Yet  he  insists  that  all  finite  appearances 
somehow  belong  to  reality,  all  our  fragmentary 
experiences  are  taken  up  into  the  eternal  con- 


300         PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 

sciousness.  The  problem  is,  How  can  the  Ab- 
solute have  change  belonging  to  it  as  a  genuine 
part  of  its  nature  and  yet  not  itself  be  subject 
to  change  ?  It  never  seems  to  have  occurred  to 
him  to  begin  at  the  other  end,  and  say  that 
change  in  some  way  must  have  an  absolute  sig- 
nificance, since  it  is  so  fundamental  a  character 
of  our  experience. 

Why  should  we  deny  to  the  Absolute  the 
character  which  by  common  consent  it  is  most 
disparaging  to  the  relative  and  finite  being  to 
lack?  Why  should  we  attribute  to  ultimate 
reality  the  static  character  of  completedness, 
when  we  regard  this  as  indicative  of  death  and 
decay  in  our  own  experience  ?  Who  of  us  would 
wish  for  an  experience,  no  matter  how  large  or 
how  exhaustive,  provided  that  this  meant  the 
end  of  all  capacity  for  growth,  expansion,  — 
evolution  of  the  new?  We  would  not  take 
the  Absolute  for  a  gift  if  it  meant  this,  —  if  it 
meant  that  there  would  be  nothing  more  to  do, 
nothing  more  to  feel,  nothing  more  to  think  ! 
What  gives  zest  and  interest  and  spontaneity 
to  life  is  its  eternal  newness.  Each  fresh  expe- 
rience is  a  genuine  evolution  of  some  new  reality. 
Each  moment  is  unique.  Nothing  just  like  it 
has  ever  occurred  in  the  universe  before.  This 


EVOLUTION   AND  THE  ABSOLUTE     307 

is  how  we  wish  to  think  of  our  own  experience. 
Why  should  we  withhold  this  character  from 
the  infinite  and  the  eternal,  from  the  universal 
absolute  experience  ?  Why  should  what  to  us 
is  the  sign  of  emptiness  and  the  quiet  of  the 
grave  be  supposed  to  be  the  highest  tribute  we 
can  pay  to  the  Supreme  Being?  Are  we  not 
much  nearer  the  truth  when  with  Lessing  we 
prefer  the  "  search  for  the  truth  "  to  the  "  truth  " 
itself,  when  we  think  of  the  Absolute  rather  in 
terms  of  a  dynamic  becoming  than  as  static  be- 
ing? To  be  sure,  it  is  not  much  of  a  search  if 
it  is  a  perpetual  seeking  and  never  finding ;  if 
it  is  an  eternal  becoming  without  becoming  some- 
thing positive  and  definite.  But  to  find  it  once 
for  all,  to  become  it  and  all  there  is  of  it  at  last 
completely,  —  what  a  hell  that  would  make  of 
heaven ! 

We  are  not  maintaining,  however,  that  the 
Absolute  is  simply  change,  that  there  is  no  truth 
whatever  in  absolutism.  On  the  con- 

Tho 

trary,  we  distinctly  believe  in  the  Ab-  Functional 

.  .  Absolute. 

solute, —  in  a  concrete  or  functional 
absolute.  The  Absolute,  we  hold,  must  be  in, 
not  beyond  our  experience.  We  are  not  arguing 
that  the  Absolute  is  imperfect.  We  are  simply 
arguing  against  a  static  idea  of  perfection.  Per- 


308         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

fection  means,  not  final  consummation,  but  in- 
exhaustible capacity  for  development.  The  Ab- 
solute is  perfect  in  the  sense  of  embodying 
infinite  potentiahties,  potencies,  promises  for 
the  future.  "  Be  ye  perfect "  does  not  mean 
"  be  absolute "  in  the  sense  of  completed  or 
finished  up,  says  Professor  Dewey.  It  means : 
Be  adequate  in  your  present  functioning;  be 
all  that  your  present  opportunities  permit  you 
to  be,  so  that  you  can  be  the  most  and  best 
possible  in  future  stages  of  your  career.  It 
means  :  Be  perfect  in  the  sense  of  so  living  now 
that  you  will  be  able  to  get  the  most  out  of  the 
future  which  is  dependent  upon  it.  If  I  look  for 
a  tool  in  practical  life,  I  want  it  relatively  com- 
plete, perfect  as  relevant  to  a  definite  end.  But 
I  do  not  want  my  experience  stopped,  finished 
up  at  that  point.  I  want  it  to  be  complete  in  the 
sense  of  adequate,  but  to  secure  just  this  I  must 
have  a  constant  stream  of  fresh  experiences. 
Perfection  in  the  sense  of  maturity  or  ripeness 
is  a  purely  relative  term.  Real  perfection  is  the 
caj^acity  and  fact  of  life,  of  growth,  of  devel- 
opment, of  evolution  —  not  finality. 

We  all  of  us  are  continually  ha^'ing  experi- 
ences which  in  a  concrete  and  functional  sense 
are  absolute.  This  occurs  whenever  in  any  rela- 


EVOLUTION  AND  THE  ABSOLUTE     309 

tively  satisfying  activity  we  feel,  for  the  time 
at  least,  that  we  have  achieved  something  worth 
while.  Any  state  of  experience  in  which  we  feel 
that  we  have  won  a  value  that  is  relatively  ade- 
quate is,  for  that  experience,  absolute.  Our 
search  does  result  in  finding,  we  do  sometimes 
achieve  our  ends,  get  somewhere,  accomplish 
something.  To  this  extent  and  in  this  sense  it 
may  be  said  that  we  are  of,  with,  to,  for,  in  the 
Absolute.  I  work  hard  to  earn  a  thousand  dollars ; 
and  when  I  have  it  credited  to  me  on  my  bank 
account  I  have  a  feeling  of  something  attained, 
a  g^oal  won.  This  is  the  absolutism  of  realization. 
It  may  last  but  a  moment,  the  end  achieved 
being  turned  over  into  means  to  further  ends ; 
but  while  it  lasts  this  feeling  of  accomplishment 
and  achievement  is  an  absolute  experience.  Der- 
ivation is  only  one  way  of  viewing  experience. 
We  conceive  of  experience  as  a  process  which 
has  a  starting-point  and  a  goal  only  when  it  is 
relatively  inadequate.  But  in  moments  of  satis- 
faction, in  moments  of  relative  absorption,  in 
those  moments  which  we  may  call  absolute  be- 
cause they  are  relatively  sumiiiative  and  con- 
summative,  the  questions  of  origin  and  destiny 
become  irrelevant, —  irrelevant  because  in  such 
moments  there  is  no  discrepancy,  no  contradic- 


310         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

tion,  no  problem.  Validity  collapses  into  im- 
mediacy. Experience  everywhere  assumes  these 
two  aspects.  On  the  one  side,  it  is  always  sum- 
ming itself  up  in  definite  interests  which  for 
the  time  being  are  absorbing.  But  while  these 
are  empirically  ultimate  and  complete,  they  in 
turn  cease  to  be  ends  in  themselves  and  become 
means  for  finding  something  else.  Infinity  of 
space  and  time  simply  means  that  there  is  no 
experience  which  may  not  be  put  to  a  use  be- 
yond itself,  there  is  no  end  which  may  not  be- 
come means  to  a  further  end.  The  universe  is 
infinite  in  the  sense  that  everything  we  get  is 
converted  into  capital  for  getting  more.  "Ex- 
perience is  for  the  sake  of  more  experience." 


CHAPTER  IX 
MIND  AND  MATTER 

§    32.    THE   DILEMaiA 

The  question  of  the  nature  of  consciousness  is 
the  leading  problem  of  current  philosophical 
controversy.  It  turns  on  the  meaning 
of  a  pair  of  abstractions  —  the  psychi- 
cal and  the  physical,  or  mind  and  matter.  Vari- 
ous views  obtain.  Some  have  held  that  matter 
is  the  true  reality  and  that  mind  is  only  a  form 
of  matter,  others  that  mind  is  the  only  true  re- 
ality and  that  matter  is  a  lower  manifestation  of 
mind.  Some  have  held  that  both  are  true  forms 
of  reality  and  that  they  are  causally  interactive, 
others  that  they  are  parallel  manifestations,  not 
causally  interactive,  of  some  unknowable  reality 
beyond  our  experience.  Still  others  hold  that 
they  represent  complementary  abstractions  from 
the  concrete  reality  of  our  experience.  Our  en- 
deavor will  be  to  show  in  what  sense  this  last 
statement  is  true. 

Physical  science,  because  of  her  rigid  mechan- 
ical principles,  seems  forced  to  view  the  universe 


312  PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

as  a  mere  machine.  She  therefore  denies  the 
^jjg  presence  of  mind  and  consciousness  as 

Problem,  efficient  causes  in  nature.  So-called 
psychical  energy  she  regards  as  a  delusion. 
There  is  no  need  for  postulating  a  second  kind 
in  addition  to  what  we  call  physical  energy,  for 
according  to  all  scientific  principles  it  is  quite 
superfluous.  It  accomplishes  nothing  that  can 
be  measured  by  scientific  apparatus.  There  is 
no  experimental  evidence  of  its  existence.  If 
the  psychical  is  a  form  of  energy,  examination 
should  show  that  a  certain  amount  of  physical 
energy  disappears  to  reappear  as  psychical.  But 
she  does  not  find  this  to  be  true. 

Yet  science  has  no  wish  to  be  dogmatic  in 
her  denial  of  the  reality  of  the  psychical.  She 
Psycho-  must  defend  her  domain  and  her  method 
Parallel-  against  the  encroachments  of  what  she 
'^™"  conceives  to  be  a  new  form  of  occultism, 

but  she  desires  to  maintain  an  open-minded  at- 
titude toward  new  facts.  For  that  reason  she 
has  formulated  as  a  provisional  theory  the  doe- 
trine  of  psychophysical  parallelism.  This  theory 
maintains  that  the  physical  and  psychical  are 
two  orders  or  aspects  of  reality  which  exist  side 
by  side  without  coming  into  causal  relation 
with  one  another.    There  is  a  dualism  which 


MIND  AND  MATTER  313 

runs  throughout  the  universe,  a  chasm  which 
science  acknowledges  she  is  powerless  to  bridge, 
,but  the  presence  of  which  she  nevertheless  feels 
constrained  to  admit.  She  does  not  attempt 
herself  to  penetrate  into  the  puzzle  of  the  rela- 
tion between  the  two.  She  contents  herself  with 
the  doctrine  of  parallelism  as  a  working  hypo- 
thesis. She  finds  the  psychical  a  sort  of  white 
elephant  on  her  hands  :  she  cannot  wholly  deny 
it  and  thus  get  rid  of  it,  nor  can  she  accept  it 
and  incorporate  it  into  her  own  system.  There- 
fore she  simply  says  that  they  stand  side  by 
side,  and  lets  the  problem  rest  there  or  hands 
it  over  to  metaphysics.  As  we  shall  see,  this  is 
as  bad  science  as  it  is  metaphysics.  If  scientific 
method  leads  to  such  results,  the  fault  lies  with 
the  method. 

Modern  thought  has  been  brought  to  an  im- 
passable gulf  in  its  doctrine  of  mind  and  mat- 
ter by  reason  of  this  rift  in  reality.  It  ^jj^ 
dates  back  to  the  Cartesian  dualism  for  ^^^°™y- 
its  inception,  and  still  underlies  most  of  the  sci- 
entific and  philosophic  thinking  of  the  present 
day.  Starting  from  this  common  assumption, 
the  physical  and  the  psychological  sciences  have 
investigated  their  respective  problems,  each 
largely  ignoring  the  bearing  of  its  results  upon 


314         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

the  other.  The  result  has  been  that  the  chasm 
has  widened  and  deepened  until  a  great  scien- 
tist (Du  Bois  Reymond)  cries,  not  only,  We  do» 
not  know,  but.  We  never  will  know ;  it  is  the 
absolute-enigma.  Another  (Tyndall)  bows  his 
head  before  "  these  two  incomprehensibles." 
And  even  for  many  of  the  professional  philoso- 
phers the  relation  between  them  remains  an  ulti- 
mate and  insoluble  mystery.  Physical  science, 
starting  with  the  material  world  as  the  only 
true  reality  and  reducing  mental  phenomena  to 
brain  activities,  finds  no  place  for  conscious 
purpose  or  freedom.  Thus  we  have  scientific 
materialism.  Psychological  science,  on  the  other 
hand,  starting  with  mental  phenomena  as  by 
definition  totally  different  from  the  physical, 
and  reducing  everything  to  states  of  conscious- 
ness, finds  no  way  of  getting  from  this  subjec- 
tive sphere  of  mind  over  to  the  objects  of  the 
external  world.  Thus  we  have  systems  of  pan- 
psychism.  Huxley  says  that  the  reality  is  the 
brain  and  nervous  activity  ;  the  accompanying 
mental  states  are  simply  the  symbols  in  con- 
sciousness of  changes  which  take  place  auto- 
matically in  the  organism.  Thus  a  biologist. 
But  Mr.  Strong  with  equal  confidence  assures 
us  that  brains  and  brain-states  are  shadows  or 


MIND  AND   MATTER  315 

symbols  merely ;  the  true  reality  is  conscious- 
ness. Thus  a  jjsychologist.  There  seems  to  be  a 
helpless  seesaw  of  equally  defensible  but  dia- 
metrically opposed  positions. 

My  volition  appears  to  cause  the  movement 
of  the  hand  that  writes  these  words.  The  printed 
paffe  in  turn  certainly  seems  to  be  the 

c  ,^  •  T   1  1  T    Inevitable 

cause  or  the  sensations  1  nave  when  1  Material- 
look  at  it.  This  is  the  interactionist 
view,  the  view  of  common-sense  thinking.  But 
no,  the  scientific  parallelist  replies  :  Such  a  view 
would  overthrow  the  deepest  principle  of  science 
—  the  doctrine  of  the  conservation  of  energy. 
Thus  interactionism  faces  the  dilemma  either 
of  contradicting  the  testimony  of  the  common 
consciousness  or  of  flying  in  the  face  of  science. 
Science  has  tried  to  escape  materialism  by  the 
hypothesis  of  parallelism.  But  she  has  signally 
failed.  We  are  only  plunged  into  a  deeper  prob- 
lem. Parallelism  is  in  no  better  plight  than 
interactionism.  On  the  one  hand,  by  the  avowed 
materialists  consciousness  is  stated  to  be  a  pro- 
duct of  evolution.  It  follows  that  it  is  an  effi- 
cient factor  in  that  evolution.  It  is  therefore  a 
form  of  energy  and  obeys  the  law  of  the  con- 
servation and  convertibility  of  energy.  This  is 
the   frankly    materialistic    conclusion.  On  the 


316         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

other  hand,  according  to  the  hypothesis  of  par- 
allelism consciousness  is  not  a  product  of  evo- 
lution, because  physical  energy  and  conscious- 
ness are  by  definition  disparate  phenomena. 
The  physical  world,  therefore,  is  a  mechanism 
explicable  entirely  apart  from  consciousness.  It 
is  a  self-sufficient  system.  The  psychical  plays 
no  part  as  a  factor  in  the  scientific  explanation 
of  nature.  Voluntary  choice  must  be  explained 
as  mechanically  as  reflex  action.  Even  granting, 
therefore,  the  existence  of  a  parallel  or  con- 
comitant psychical  realm,  the  scientific  statement 
of  the  universe  is  of  necessity  materialistic. 
Either  argument  leads  to  materialism. 

That  the  monistic  doctrine  should  do  so  is 

obvious  enough.  It  is  perhaps  not  so  clear  at 

first  in  the  case  of  parallelism.  But  if 

"Parallel-  .  ^ 

ism  "a  the  psychical  and  the  physical  are 
absolutely  disparate,  how  can  they  be 
parallel  ?  As  a  recent  writer  has  said,  if  the 
question  were  properly  stated,  it  were  better 
called  non-intersecting  perpendicularism.  If 
they  are  not  absolutely  disparate,  why  empha- 
size the  fact  that  they  are  parallel  in  time 
more  than  the  fact,  say,  that  they  are  coex- 
istent in  space  or  causally  related  ?  "  Parallel- 
ism "  is  a  misnomer  for  a  doctrine  which  restricts 


MIND  AND  MATTER  317 

science  to  the  physical  side.  If  science  is  to 
leave  any  place  at  all  for  consciousness,  it  can- 
not be  treated  in  this  purely  negative  way.  It 
must  be  given  some  positive  significance.  And 
that  science  which  finds  no  way,  in  terms  of 
its  own  categories,  by  which  logically  it  can 
give  positive  significance  to  the  psychical  sim- 
ply shows  the  utter  dogmatism  of  its  method. 

Science  has  practically  handed  the  problem 
over  to  metaphysics  as  insoluble.  This  is  shown 
by  the  fact  that  men  of  science  now 
adopt  parallelism  with  the  distinct  re-  lying  as- 
cognition  that  it  is  not  a  solution  but 
simply  a  provisional  formulation  of  the  facts. 
For  the  philosopher,  however,  the  parallelism  of 
mind  and  body  is  no  postulate.  It  is  rather  a 
problem,  a  subject  for  further  reflection.  A 
doctrine  of  absolute  parallelism,  with  all  that 
such  a  doctrine  implies,  would  mean  the  aban- 
donment of  metaphysics.  It  would  be  to  give 
up  the  problem  at  the  start.  To  say  that  the 
psychical  and  the  physical  are  parallel  in  the 
sense  of  being  absolutely  disparate  and  inde- 
pendent is  not  only  a  self-contradictory  use  of 
the  term  "  parallel,"  but  it  prejudges  the  whole 
controversy.  The  real  problem  lies  within  tliis 
word.  In  what  sense  are  they  parallel?   The 


318         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

time  has  come  when  what  professedly  is  but  a 
working  hypothesis  of  science  should  be  either 
established  as  a  law  or  rejected  as  a  false  ac- 
count of  the  facts.  Strenuous  efforts  have  been 
made  so  to  modify  the  hypothesis  of  parallelism 
as  to  make  of  it  a  solution  and  not  simply  a 
restatement  of  the  problem.  All  the  fantastic 
constructions  of  hylo-idealism,  pan-psychism, 
the  mind-stuff  theory,  the  theory  of  conscious- 
automatism,  the  doctrine  of  psychical  causality, 
the  identity  hypothesis,  and  the  universal  par- 
allelism of  the  psychical  and  the  physical  as 
complementary  aspects  or  phases  of  an  unknow- 
able reality  illustrate  the  extremes  to  which 
theory  has  been  pushed  in  the  attempt  to  escape 
this  paradox.  But  these  efforts  have  served  only 
to  point  out  the  futility  of  the  hypothesis  as 
a  statement  of  the  problem  and  its  absurdity 
as  a  solution.  The  difficulty  of  the  problem  of 
parallelism  lies  not  upon  the  surface,  but  in 
the  underlying  assumption  that  there  are  two 
orders  or  phases  of  reality  capable  of  being 
thus  related.  Parallelism,  in  other  words,  is  an 
insoluble  enigma  because,  like  all  the  great 
test-problems  in  the  history  of  philosophy,  it 
presupposes  a  certain  answer  in  the  very  form 
of  statement  of  the  question. 


^ 


MIND  AND  MATTER  319 

Now  of  course  "we  do  not  for  a  moment  be- 
lieve that  such  a  dilemma  is  the  necessary  out- 
come of  science.  It  is  thus  stated  only  ^  Question 
to  point  out  that  the  solution  is  not  to  <>*  Method. 
be  found  in  terms  of  scientific  categories  as  they 
are  at  present  conceived.  We  must  go  back  of 
the  mere  words.  We  must  dig  down  to  the 
basal  presuppositions  of  the  discussion.  Profes- 
sor Herrick  has  called  the  mind-matter  problem 
"the  Great  Bad."  It  seems  to  embrace  within 
it  more  uncriticised  assumptions  and  flat  con- 
tradictions than  any  other  single  topic  of  philo- 
sophical controversy  of  recent  times.  Until  we 
can  come  to  some  sort  of  an  understanding  on 
the  fundamental  premises  of  the  problem,  fur- 
ther discussion  of  the  question  from  the  diverse 
points  of  view  promises  but  little  in  the  way  of 
a  solution.  The  misunderstandings  which  give 
rise  to  controversy  arise  in  large  measure  from 
differences  in  conception  of»the  meaning  of  the 
terms.  It  appears  impossible  to  discuss  the 
question  of  the  relation  between  mind  and  mat- 
ter without  presupposing  a  certain  view  of  their 
nature.  It  would  seem  that  those  who  take  part 
in  the  controversy  must  first  agree  as  to  the 
meaninof  of  the  terms  fundamental  in  the  dis- 
cussion.  Yet  it  is  doubtful  whether  this  is  pos- 


320         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

sible,  since  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  we  can 
arrive  at  a  clearer  conception  of  the  nature  of 
mind  and  matter  without  this  involving  at  the 
same  time  a  truer  view  of  their  relations.  To  fix 
rigidly  the  presuppositions  of  a  discussion  is  to 
predetermine  its  outcome,  and  this  destroys  its 
scientific  and  philosophic  value.  It  is  no  more 
possible  in  philosophy  than  in  science  to  come 
to  an  agreement  on  first  principles  before  dis- 
cussing a  problem  with  one  who  holds  a  different 
view.  Ultimate  presuppositions  and  the  imme- 
diate necessities  of  argument  cannot  be  thus 
held  apart.  They  are  as  organically  interdepend- 
ent as  blood  and  the  tissue  which  it  nourishes. 
All  that  one  can  hope  to  do  is  to  make  clear 
what  he  thinks  are  the  initial  assumptions  of 
his  argument,  and  then  show  in  what  direction 
that  argument  itself  tends  to  modify  those  very 
assumptions.  If  one  has  a  preliminary  certainty 
as  to  what  he  means  by  mind  and  matter  he 
scarcely  needs  to  go  on  to  unfold  his  view  of 
their  interrelation.  The  latter  is  implied  in  the 
former.  The  question  thus  is  not  the  easy  one 
of  first  agreeing  on  a  platform  and  then  carry- 
ing through  the  campaign  on  this  basis.  Phi- 
losophy recognizes  no  platform  which  at  any 
stage  in  the  campaign  may  not  have  to  be  re- 


MIND  AND  MATTER  321 

planked.  Are  we,  then,  not  to  ask  the  question 
for  fear  of  prejudicing  the  answer  by  the  form 
in  which  the  question  is  put  ?  We  may  ask  the 
question  if  we  recognize  that  the  answer  can  be 
true  only  from  the  point  of  view  from  which  it 
is  asked,  and  continue  thinking  and  investigat- 
ing with  the  aim  of  substantiating  or  refuting 
this  point  of  view. 

§  33.    THE   EVOLUTION  OF   THE   DISTINCTION 

The  problem  of  "  mind"  and  "matter  "  there- 
fore resolves  itself  into  the  question  of  what  we 
mean  by  these  terms.  In  my  naive  un- 
reflective  experience  I  am  neither  mind  concep- 
nor  body  alone.  Nor  am  I  a  composite 
of  the  two.  I  am  all  or  none  of  these  in  the 
sense  that  the  dualism  implied  in  these  terms 
has  not  yet  been  set  up.  How  this  distinction 
arises  in  the  evolution  of  consciousness  in  the 
race  or  in  its  development  in  the  individual  can 
be  understood  only  when  we  have  succeeded  in 
disentangling  the  bonds  of  intercommunication 
which  constitute  individuals  into  what  we  call 
society.  Conscious  individuality  can  be  under- 
stood only  by  the  analysis  of  experience  made 
possible  by  a  social  psychology.  Of  one  thing 
we  may  be  reasonably  sure,  that  the  emergence 


322         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

of  the  psycliic  aspect  or  factor  is  connected  with 
the  process  of  the  mediation  of  experience.  It 
first  appears  as  the  source  of  error  and  illusion. 
Things  are  found  to  be  not  what  they  seem, 
and  this  apparent  unreality  is  hypostasized  as 
a  separate  realm  of  being.  When  man  learned 
that  the  earth  revolves  about  the  sun  instead  of 
the  sun*s  rising  and  setting  as  it  appears  to  do, 
he  relegated  the  apparent  phenomenon  (which 
he  then  called  an  illusion)  to  a  state  or  effect 
in  the  individual  which  does  not  find  its  coun- 
terpart in  the  cosmic  order.  Appearances  of  this 
sort  are  set  apart  as  a  separate  realm  with  its 
own  laws  and  principles.  This  realm  furnishes 
the  data  of  psychology.  Consciousness  is  the 
unclassified  residuum,  the  still  unexplained  —  a 
sort  of  epistemological  scrap-heap. 

The  clear  distinction  between  mind  and 
matter  came  relatively  late  in  human  develop- 
ment. Man  in  the  beginning  made 
no  such  distinction.  And  when  he  did 
begin  to  make  it,  it  was  made  hesitatingly,  con- 
fusedly, and  inconsistently.  In  the  beginning, 
mental  states  were  treated  simply  as  so  many 
more  physical  objects;  or  physical  objects  on 
certain  occasions  were  sublimated  into  psychical 
abstractions.    To  the  savage,  and  even  to  the 


MIND  AND  MATTER  323 

Greek  sage,  the  symbol  instead  of  representing 
the  object  seems  to  have  contained  its  essence. 
This  is  the  significance  of  Plato's  hypostatiza- 
tion  of  ideas  or  concepts.  The  ancient  idealist 
swept  all  reality  into  his  conceptual  forms  with- 
out feeling  the  ontological  incompatibility  of 
mind  and  matter.  On  the  other  hand,  by  the 
ancient  materialist  the  soul  was  not  conceived  as 
a  phosphorescence  or  epiphenomenon :  he  had 
no  difficulty  in  conceiving  both  body  and  soul 
as  material  in  their  nature.  When  mental  states 
began  to  be  described,  it  was  in  terms  of  phy- 
sical objects  and  processes.  No  new  language 
was  invented,  but  old  words  were  broadened  to 
cover  the  new  phenomena.  Thus  the  mind  came 
to  be  viewed  as  a  substance  or  entity  like  matter 
except  that  it  was  less  palpable  and  visible,  more 
ethereal,  shadowy,  and  vaporous.  The  soul  was 
represented  as  breath,  as  fire,  as  motion.  It  has 
been  suggested  that  man's  knowledge  of  his 
psychical  self  or  soul,  as  distinguished  from  his 
body,  may  have  first  come  from  seeing  his  image 
in  the  water  or  from  a  reification  of  his  dream 
life.  More  probably  it  is  to  be  connected  with 
the  fact  of  breathing  (ylruxv,  auima).  "The 
stream  of  thinking,"  says  Professor  James,  "  is 
only  a  careless  name  for  what,  when  scrutinized, 


324         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

reveals  itself  to  consist  chiefly  of  the  stream  of 
my  breathing."  However  that  may  be,  we  know 
that  this  shadowy  intangible  world  in  the  course 
of  time  came  to  be  given  a  separate  existence 
and  even  to  take  precedence  in  thought  of  the 
material  world.  The  motive  for  this  was  doubt- 
less in  part  a  religious  one.  The  spirit  world 
was  the  abode  of  good  and  evil  demons,  of 
deities  and  devils.  It  was  also  the  place  to  which 
at  death  the  spirits  of  men  and  animals  were 
translated.  Even  in  the  Middle  Ages,  after  the 
dawn  of  Christianity,  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven, 
the  spiritual  world,  was  conceived  as  a  supra- 
mundane  sphere  for  which  this  world  was  only 
a  probation. 

Modern  pan-psychism,  however,  must  not  be 
confounded  with  primitive  animism.  The  ani- 
mism and  hylozoism  of  primitive  humanity  re- 
present simply  the  unreflective  anthropomor- 
phizing of  non-human  objects.  Early  fetishism, 
sorcery,  zoolatry,  and  witchcraft  represent  no 
reflective  distinction  of  a  spiritual  world,  since 
the  shadows,  ghosts,  or  spirits  supposed  to  people 
Hades  have  largely  the  same  characters  as  living 
men.  It  is  only  very  slowly,  out  of  this  j^rereflec- 
tive  undifferentiated  matrix  that  the  realism  and 
idealism  of  later  thought  develop.  The  souls  of 


MIND  AND  MATTER  325 

living  things  became  more  and  more  detached 
from  organisms  and  used  as  abstract  principles 
until  in  the  so-called  idealism  of  Plato  we  find 
the  abstract  universal  idea  hypostasized  as  the 
essential  reality.  But  this  is  not  idealism  in  the 
modern  sense ;  the  ideal  is  not  identified  with 
the  psychical. 

The  evolution  of  the  psychical  in  the  psy- 
chological sense  of  the  term  is  a  comparatively 
modern  achievement.  According  to  the  ThePsycw- 
Greek  the  universal  is  the  real;  the  "if»«^<"- 
particular  is  the  unreal.  But  in  the  evolution  of 
the  individual  as  seen  first  in  the  undercurrent  of 
revolt  against  authority  in  the  Middle  Ages  and 
later  in  the  assertion  of  intellectual  and  moral 
freedom  in  the  Renascence  and  Reformation, 
we  find  that  what  the  Greeks  regarded  as  the 
illusory  and  unreal  is  taken  as  the  most  certain 
basis  and  starting-point  of  philosophical  thought. 
The  consciousness  of  the  individual  among  the 
Greeks  was  not  differentiated  from  that  of  the 
community  life.  It  was  only  through  Chris- 
tianity, which  brought  the  Semitic  inwardness 
into  contact  with  Greek  objectivity,  and  through 
the  invasion  of  Greco-Roman  civilization  by  the 
Teutonic  or  Germanic  races  with  their  insist- 
ence on  personal  freedom,  that  the  individual 


326         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

came  to  be  set  over  against  the  institution  as  in 
himself  embodying  reality  as  truly,  and  it  came 
even  to  be  asserted  more  truly  than  the  State 
or  Church.  This  is  the  philosophical  signifi- 
cance of  the  Renascence,  of  the  Reformation, 
of  the  Protestant  political  revolutions,  of  the 
rise  of  the  free  cities  and  the  fall  of  feudalism 
and,  in  reflective  thought,  of  nominalism  as 
opposed  to  the  realism  and  conceptualism  of  the 
mediaeval  period.  Especially  do  we  see  the  evo- 
lution of  the  individual  in  the  political  and 
industrial  history  of  England,  and  there  also 
significantly  we  find  the  greatest  development 
of  psychological  philosophy  which  adopts  es- 
sentially the  standpoint  of  the  individual  con- 
sciousness, making  fundamental  and  thorough- 
going the  principle  that  was  only  hinted  at  in 
Descartes's  "  I  think,  therefore  I  am." 

Now  just  as  the  Middle  Ages  hypostasized 
the  abstract  ideas  or  universals  of  the  Greeks 
sniJiec-  ^^  carried  on  the  process  which  was  be- 
uvity.         g^jj  ]^y  ^jjg  Greeks,  so  modern  thought 

has  hypostasized  the  psychical  individual  as  a 
separate  self  over  and  above  the  physical  or 
bodily  self,  at  the  same  time  incorporating  into 
this  conception  certain  ideas  from  the  Greek 
notion  of  the  real  ideal  as  contrasted  with  the 


MIND  AND  MATTER  327 

illusory  phenomenal  world.  The  difiBculty  of  the 
problem  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact  that 
there  are  at  least  nine  different  meaninsrs  g-iven 
to  the  distinction  between  the  "  subjective " 
and  the  "  objective  "  in  the  history  of  reflective 
thought,  these  words  having  completely  reversed 
their  meanings  since  the  Middle  Ages.  The 
mental  at  first  was  conceived  as  immaterial,  un- 
extended,and  simple  as  compared  with  the  com- 
plexity of  the  extended  material  world.  Then 
later,  as  the  facts  of  localization  of  the  psychic 
functions  in  the  nervous  system  were  discovered, 
it  became  conceived  as  spiritual  being  possessed 
of  certain  faculties  or  powers  corresponding  to 
certain  parts  of  the  brain.  And  in  its  latest 
phase,  in  pan-psychism,  we  have  mind  clearly 
hypostasized  as  a  separate  realm  of  being  coex- 
tensive and  equally  complex  with,  though  caus- 
ally independent  of,  the  whole  physical  world. 
Under  the  influence  of  the  doctrine  of  evolu- 
tion the  animal  soul  and  rational  spirit  which 
even  Descartes  distinguished  came  to  be  identi- 
fied and  man  viewed  dichotomously  as  body 
and  mind  (soul  or  spirit)  instead  of  trichoto- 
mously  as  body,  mind,  and  soul  (or  spirit).  The 
transformation  from  the  ancient  point  of  view 
is  complete.  Instead  of  the  world  of  ideas  being 


"328         PKINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

a  fixed  and  static  world,  it  is  viewed  as  in  con- 
tinual flux,  as  a  stream  of  conscious  states. 
And  just  as  the  conception  of  inert  lump  matter 
has  given  place  to  the  doctrine  of  energy,  on 
the  physical  side,  so  the  conception  of  fixed 
mental  faculties  has  given  place  to  the  doctrine 
of  psychic  functions.  We  no  longer  speak  of 
mind  and  its  faculties,  of  functions  and  that 
which  has  the  functions.  The  mind  does  not 
have  functions ;  it  is  the  functions.  It  is  real 
only  in  the  activity,  or  rather  its  activity,  its 
functioning,  is  its  reality.   Its  various  faculties 

—  sense-perception,  memory,  imagination,  etc. 

—  do  not  "  belong  to  "  the  mind  ;  they  are  the 
mind.  Each  factor  is  the  function  of  a  common 
activity,  a  moment  in  the  single  process. 

Thus  we  see  that  what  was  at  first  purely 
practical  was  gradually  transformed  into  an  on- 
tological  distinction,  the  mental  being  hyposta- 
sized  in  one  form  or  another  as  a  distinct  order 
of  existence.  The  solution  of  the  problem  lies 
in  getting  back  to  the  principle  involved  in 
the  practical  attitude. 

§   34.   CONSCIOUSNESS   AND  EXPERIENCE 

We  have  here  a  crucial  case  for  testing  the 
validity  of  the  functional  method  of  dealing 


MIND  AND  MATTER  329 

with  ultimate  concepts.  What  do  I  mean  when 
I  speak  of  my  mental  or  spiritual  life  ?  I  refer 
to  certain  acts  on  my  part,  adjustments  which 
as  an  organism  I  make  to  my  environment,  which 
are  of  a  less  overt  and  gross  character  than  acts 
such  as  walking,  or  moving  my  arm.  To  move 
my  lips  is  a  physical  act,  and  as  such  is  not  re- 
garded as  spiritual.  But  to  think  of  a  word,  such 
as  "  baby,"  which  contains  two  labials,  is  called 
a  mental  act.  Of  course  the  one  is  as  much  phy- 
sical as  the  other;  there  is  no  thinking,  so  far 
as  we  know,  which  is  not  done  by  an  organism. 
The  difference  lies,  therefore,  not  in  the  fact 
that  the  so-called  physical  is  an  act  performed 
by  an  organism  in  space  and  time  and  the  spirit- 
ual an  immaterial  disembodied  occurrence  :  it 
lies  somehow  in  the  different  degree  of  overt- 
ness  or  in  the  different  functions  or  uses  they 
serve  in  relation  to  experience. 

The   difference  in    the   degree  of  overtness 
is  at  the  basis  of  the  distinction  between  the 
spiritual  and  the  physical.  One  person  The  du- 
is  said  to  have  a  purely  spiritual  fellow-  |"een*the' 
ship  with  another   person  when  there  f^^^^f 
are   no  physical  contacts.  There  must  ^^ysicai 
of  course  be  physical  relationship  of  some  sort. 
It  is  difficult  on  any  other  grounds  to  see  what 


330         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

might  be  meant  by  fellowship ;  there  is  no  ade- 
quate evidence  that  we  may  have  fellowship 
with  discarnate  spirits  (assuming  that  there  are 
any  such,  which  also  is  unproven).  But  it  is  ob- 
vious here  that  this  is  simply  a  difference  in  the 
character  of  the  physical  adjustments  which 
take  place.  Instead  of  taking  my  friend  by  the 
hand,  hearing  his  voice  and  looking  into  his  eyes, 
I  have  only,  let  us  say,  read  his  poetry  or  I  know 
him  only  through  the  letters  I  receive  from  him. 
It  must  be  through  some  physical  adjustment 
that  I  know  him,  if  I  am  to  know  him  at  all : 
reading  and  writing  are  as  much  physical  acts 
as  shakinof  his  hand — but  these  are  acts  of  a 
finer  sort,  involving  more  delicate  muscular  co- 
ordinations ;  and  because  that  is  an  important 
distinction  practically  and  socially,  it  has  come 
to  be  regarded  as  dividing  the  universe  into 
two  realms  of  matter  and  mind,  organism  and 
consciousness,  things  and  thoughts. 

All  this  distinction  really  represents,  however, 
is  the  fact  that  certain  acts  in  our  experience 
are  used,  or  function,  in  a  different 
Difference  way  from  othcr  acts.  Reading,  writ- 
overtness  iug,  and  especially  what  are  called  the 
distinctively  mental  processes  of  think- 
ing, are  acts  which  in  a  peculiar  sense  stand  for 


MIND   AND   MATTER  331 

other  acts.  Reading  his  poetry  or  his  letters  is 
a  vicarious  substitute  for  hearing  my  friend's 
voice  and  seeing  the  play  of  features  on  his  face. 
Writing  a  letter  to  him  is  a  substitute  for  tak- 
ing his  hand,  looking  into  his  eyes  and  talking 
with  him.  It  is  only  necessary  to  carry  this  prin- 
ciple a  step  further  and  it  becomes  apparent  that 
all  thinking,  that  indeed  all  so-called  mental  or 
spiritual  processes,  are  simply  vicarious  substi- 
tutes for  other  acts  usually  of  a  grosser,  more 
overt  sort.  This  is  recognized  in  the  familiar  say- 
ing that  thinking  is  only  an  inner  speaking,  or 
that  thinking,  as  Bain  said,  is  refraining  from 
speaking  or  acting.  But  this  is  true  not  of 
thought  only ;  it  is  the  essential  character  of  all 
mental  processes.  Feelings,  as  the  physiologi- 
cal psychologists  have  shown  us,  represent  ves- 
tigial reactions  of  an  instinctive  sort,  and  images, 
ideas,  volitions  are  simply  acts  in  the  incipient 
or  nascent  stage  of  their  development. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  the  fundamental  differ- 
ence between  the  physical  and  the  mental  lies 
not  in  some  original  difference  in  their  charac- 
ter,  the  one  being  material  and  extended,  and 
the  other  immaterial  and  non-spatial,  but  that 
the  psychical  or  mental  represents  simply  a  dif- 
ference of  use  or  function  of  the  same  experi- 


332         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

ence  or  reality  which  in  a  different  context  is 
called  material  or  physical. 

But  the  old  ontological  conception  of  mind 
and  matter  as  realities  of  rigidly  and  absolutely 
different  character  is  so  engrained  into  the 
thought  and  language  of  modern  times  that  it 
is  extremely  difficult  to  eradicate  it  or  so  to 
transform  it  as  to  show  the  true  functional 
character  of  the  distinction. 

Consciousness  is  not  a  different  kind  of  ex- 
istence from  matter.  It  is  the  one  reality  of  our 
experience  undergoing  transformation 
ness  not  a  under  Certain  conditions  of  relative  ten- 
Kind  of        sion  in  adaptation.  The  direct  experi- 

Exlstence.  o  .^  1*11  *        1  £ 

ence  or  the  child  or  animal,  or  even  or 
the  human  adult  when  he  is  not  thinking,  is 
made  up  of  a  series  of  states  or  acts  which  present 
no  conscious  distinction  between  subject  and  ob- 
ject, or  between  psychical  and  physical.  But  if 
some  uncertainty  or  doubt  or  difficulty  arises, 
this  experience  is  broken  up  so  that  a  duality 
appears  within  it — a  duality  of  function  which 
serves  to  dichotomize  the  experience  into  one 
part  which  is  regarded  as  uncertain  and  prob- 
lematic, and  another  which  is  taken  as  certain 
or  given. 

This  may  be  illustrated  as  follows:  My  ex- 


MIND  AND  MATTER  333 

perience  of  the  temperature  in  this  room  up  to 
the  present   moment,  let  us   suppose, 

1  ,  ..,  1        •      1  1  .     Illustration. 

nas  been  neither  physical  nor  psychi- 
cal, neither  objective  nor  subjective.  But  now 
I  become  conscious  of  the  fact  that  it  has  been 
getting  colder.  I  feel  a  draft.  I  see  no  open 
window  or  door.  What  can  be  the  cause  of  it  ? 
Here  is  a  polarizing  of  my  experience.  There 
is  something  which  is  uncertain  —  the  cause  of 
this  chilling  atmosphere.  This  occupies  the  fore- 
ground of  consciousness ;  it  is  the  salient,  the 
absorbing  feature  of  this  experience.  Besides 
this  there  is  the  general  background  of  things 
in  the  environment  which  being  irrelevant  in 
this  situation  are  simply  taken  for  granted  — 
the  chairs,  table,  books,  etc.  The  door,  the  win- 
dows, the  draft  are  in  the  focus  of  conscious- 
ness ;  they  are  psychical.  My  overcoat  hanging 
on  the  rack  is  on  the  border-line  ;  it  is  in  a  fair 
way  to  become  psychical  provided  the  room  gets 
cold  enough  and  I  am  not  able  to  discover  the 
cause  of  the  draft.  That  is,  the  overcoat  in 
such  case  passes  into  the  foreground  —  and  this 
is  what  we  mean  by  the  functionally  psychical 
aspect  of  the  experience.  The  draft,  the  door, 
the  windows,  and  the  overcoat  will  then  remain 
the  psychical  aspect  of  this  experience  until  I 


334         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

locate  and  remove  the  cause  of  the  discomfort. 
Then  the  experience  will  lapse  again  to  the 
former  level  of  direct  stimulus  and  response  so 
far  as  temperature  is  concerned.  In  another  in- 
stance, instead  of  being  the  temperature  which 
is  brought  into  the  focus,  it  may  be  the  light. 
Dusk  may  come  on  while  I  am  reading,  so  that 
finally  I  am  no  longer  able  to  pursue  my  work. 
Then  the  whole  situation  of  insufficient  illumi- 
nation comes  to  consciousness  while  I  search 
for  a  light.  But  when  I  strike  a  match,  light 
the  gas,  and  resume  my  reading,  the  light  situ- 
ation retreats  from  the  focus  just  as  did  the 
temperature  situation.  Thus  what  is  undergo- 
ing reconstruction  in  consciousness  at  one  time 
or  in  one  situation  may  be  taken  for  granted 
as  irrelevant  in  another  situation.  And  when 
we  say  irrelevant  we  mean  simply  that  it  is  taken 
as  given  in  that  situation.  It  is  irrelevant  be- 
cause it  is  so  thoroughly  taken  for  granted, 
so  completely  assumed  as  there :  it  is  not  the 
particular  phase  of  the  experience  which  is 
undergoing  modification. 

By  the  naive  consciousness  is  meant  an  im- 
mediate, direct,  practical,  uncritical  sort  of  ex- 
perience, which  does  not  turn  back  upon  itself, 
which  does  not  reflect  upon  its  own  technique, 


MIND  AND  MATTER  335 

but  moves  on  from  one  "  objective "  situa- 
tion to  another  without  any  conscious  ^^^g  qqu. 
interpolation  of  the  self  into  the  pro-  "lousness. 
cess.  It  is  characteristic  of  reflective  experi- 
ence, on  the  other  hand,  that  it  explicitly  dis- 
tinguishes between  self  and  thing,  agent  and 
situation.  In  addition  to  directing  the  attention 
to  the  objective  environment,  it  brings  clearly 
into  relief  and  seeks  consciously  to  direct  the 
subjective  or  personal  side.  This  does  not  sig- 
nify that  the  self  is  equally  explicit  in  all  ex- 
periences. It  asserts  only  that  the  self  must 
figure  to  some  extent  in  every  experience  which 
is  conscious.  The  self  may  be  relatively  sub- 
merged or  prominent,  but  in  principle  it  must 
be  there.  As  to  the  question  of  the  conditions 
under  which  the  self  becomes  relatively  ex- 
plicit, the  simplest  reply  is,  when  the  readjust- 
ment involves  some  alteration  of  the  attitude 
of  the  organism  itself.  When  the  adjustment  is 
one  involving  alteration  of  two  or  more  features 
of  the  environment  in  relation  to  each  other, 
features  to  which  the  orsfanism  sustains  a  com- 
mon  reference,  then  the  self  does  not  explicitly 
figure,  just  because  it  is  equally  implied  in  both 
the  contending  factors.  Here  we  have  the  true 
explanation  of  the  fact  that  many  of  our  socially 


336         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

important  adaptations  are  often  not  accompanied 
by  any  vivid  reference  to  the  self.  Self  does  not 
consciously  appear  in  the  more  immediate  modes 
of  perception  and  reaction  just  because  it  is  so 
thoroughly  organized  into  all  the  leading  ele- 
ments in  the  situation. 

Now  what  is  the  significance  of  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  self  into  the  ongoing  experience? 
And  how  does  this  affect  the  interpreta- 

Reflectlve         .  ... 

Conscious-  tiou  of  the  distinction  between  the  psy- 
chical and  the  physical  ?  I  say  that  /eat 
food,  /  go  to  town,  /  dream,  /  love,  /  win  fame, 
/  seek  my  soul's  salvation,  /  study  my  own 
mental  states.  It  is  possible  to  take  the  "  I " 
here  in  a  perfectly  naive  sense  without  any  con- 
notations either  psychical  or  physical.  What 
leads  me  as  I  become  sophisticated  to  dis- 
tinguish the  mental  from  the  material  part  of 
my  self  ?  What  is  the  origin  and  function  of 
this  distinction  ?  It  arises  just  because  the  naive 
attitude  in  some  experience  is  not  adequate  to 
control  the  situation.  The  problem  presented  by 
some  new  phase  of  life  demands  a  more  precise 
determination  of  the  means  or  conditions  of 
action  on  the  one  side,  and  of  the  ends  or  cri- 
teria of  action  on  the  other,  in  order  to  carry 
out  the  adjustment  necessary  to  reach  a  satis- 


MIND  AND  MATTER  337 

factory  solution.  This  determination  of  the  con- 
ditions of  action  requires  a  statement  of  the  steps 
necessary  to  carry  out  the  coordination  in  terms 
of  some  objective  technique.  Such  is  the  his- 
tory of  the  evolution  of  all  scientific  apparatus. 
Machinery  is  objective  in  the  sense  of  being 
socially  accessible,  communicable,  and  verifi- 
able. The  material  object  or  mechanism  is  some- 
thing that  I  can  count  on;  it  persists  compar- 
atively unchanged,  and  hence  by  means  of  it 
at  least  a  relative  stability  and  control  are  in- 
troduced into  my  experience.  The  objective 
world,  the  material  world  as  science  knows  it, 
has  been  built  up  in  just  this  way,  in  response 
to  the  demand  for  a  fulcrum  or  point  of  lever- 
age in  carrying  on  my  activities. 

But  while  this  search  for  pivotal  points  or 
centres  of  control  in  that  part  of  our  experi- 
ence which  we  call  the  physical  world  has  been 
going  on  and  has  been  measurably  successful, 
there  has  been  gradually  set  apart  in  contradis- 
tinction from  this  world  of  objective  control- 
centres  another  world  of  subjective  personal  at- 
titudes which  are  not  thus  permanent  or  whose 
permanence  is  not  at  any  rate  a  socially  inter- 
changeable phenomenon.  This  world  of  organic 
attitudes,  determined  at  least  in  part  from  this 


338         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

finite  centre  in  space  and  time  which  I  call 
my  organism,  just  because  of  this  relative  lack 
of  control,  comes  to  be  distinguished  from  the 
other,  as  the  mental  world.  The  self  enters  into 
experience  as  the  incalculable  element,  the  in- 
determinate factor,  the  independent  variable 
which  must  be  figured  into  each  equation. 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that  in  the  future 
we  may  have  a  psycho-mechanics  which  will 
Psycho-  reduce  to  law  the  conscious  activities 
mechanics.  q£  ^^le  complex  mcchanism  that  we  call 
the  brain  just  as  at  present  we  have  physical, 
electrical,  and  the  beginnings  of  a  biological 
mechanics.  But  until  that  time  comes  our  men- 
tal life  is  open  to  all  the  vagaries  of  explanation 
which  always  hover  about  the  unclassified  resi- 
duum. The  most  subtle  of  these  is  the  doctrine 
of  the  soul  as  a  separate  entity,  a  doctrine  the 
more  difficult  to  eradicate  because  so  firmly  in- 
trenched in  our  religious  and  ethical  conscious- 
ness. Says  a  recent  writer,  "  In  all  regions  of 
phenomena  the  belief  in  entities  has  retarded 
the  progress  of  knowledge.  Light,  heat,  elec- 
tricity, magnetism,  each  in  turn  has  been  con- 
ceived, not  as  the  result  of  certain  conditions, 
but  as  a  mysterious  principle  controlling  the 
conditions."    And  as  another  writer  says,  "  Col- 


MIND  AND  MATTER  339 

ors  were  first  supposed  to  be  in  the  outward  ob- 
jects, then  in  the  light  coming  from  these  ob- 
jects, then  in  the  eye  that  perceives  this  light, 
then  in  the  nerve  acted  upon  by  the  eye,  then  in 
some  part  of  the  brain  acted  upon  by  the  nerve, 
and  a  very  small  step  remains  to  perceive  that 
color,  and  that  every  sense-perception,  is  an 
activity  of  the  mind."  Mind,  in  other  words,  is 
not  a  separate  realm  of  existence.  It  is  a  mani- 
festation of  the  same  universe  that  we  ordina- 
rily call  physical.  Consciousness  can  no  longer 
be  regarded  as  a  peculiar  substance  or  entity. 
Nor  is  it  a  quality  or  attribute  of  such  a  sub- 
stance. It  must  be  regarded,  in  keeping  with 
the  dynamic  concepts  now  current  in  the  phy- 
sical and  biological  sciences,  as  a  certain  rela- 
tion in  which  the  contents  of  experience  stand 
under  special  conditions  of  relative  tension  in 
adaptation.  It  is  the  use  of  one  part  of  expe- 
rience to  get  another,  the  vicarious  substitution 
of  one  experience  for  another ;  and  since  the 
incipient  act  is  a  more  economical  form  in  which 
to  handle  an  experience  than  its  completely  de- 
termined overt  form,  such  incipient  acts  taken 
together  as  standing  for  all  experience  when  it 
is  undersfoino:  transformation  are  called  mental. 
But  it  is  not  a  different  experience ;  it  is  the 


340         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

same  experience  in  a  different  mode  or  stage  or 
phase.  It  is  experience  functioning  in  a  differ- 
ent way,  not  a  different  kind  of  experience. 

In  the  history  of  science  the  questions  have 
been  asked  in  succession :  What  is  light?  What 
is  heat?  What  is  electricity  ?  Whatislife?  And 
now  the  question  is  asked :  What  is  conscious- 
ness? The  answers  to  these  questions  without 
exception  have  come  indirectly.  We  cease  to  ask 
the  question  as  to  what  these  things  are  as  we 
come  to  know  more  about  how  they  operate  and 
in  what  relations  they  stand.  Light,  for  exam- 
ple, was  first  regarded  as  a  special  kind  of 
substance  thrown  off  in  the  form  of  minute  cor- 
puscles from  the  luminous  body.  Later  it  was 
conceived  as  a  mode  of  motion  of  the  ether. 
Now  the  electro-magnetic  theory  substitutes  elec- 
tric waves  for  undulations  of  a  so-called  elastic- 
solid  called  the  ether.  Life  used  to  be  explained 
by  a  special  vital  force.  Later  it  came  to  be 
stated  as  a  property  or  attribute  of  a  certain 
kind  of  matter  called  protoplasm.  Now  it  is  de- 
fined in  terms  of  action  or  behavior  as  a  per- 
petual disturbance  and  recovery  of  equilibrium 
of  a  system  of  inter-active  energies.  So  with  con- 
sciousness. Mind  has  been  conceived  as  a  dis- 
tinct kind  of  being.  It  has  been  viewed  as  a 


MIND  AND  MATTER  341 

property  or  quality  of  an  underlying  substance. 
Now  it  is  coming-  to  be  regarded  as  a  complex 
of  activities,  a  system  of  relations,  a  sum  of 
utilities.  The  answer  to  the  question  as  to  what 
mind  is  is  a  description  of  what  it  does,  the 
relations  in  which  it  stands,  the  functions  it  per- 
forms, the  uses  or  values  which  it  represents. 

Self-consciousness  is  thus  not  a  later  and 
higher  development,  but  at  least  in  a  rudimen- 
tary form  is  characteristic  of  all  con- 

.  -r     •  •  '11         Otject-Con- 

sciousness.  It  is  consciousness  with  the  sciousness 
emphasis  on  the  agent  rather  than  on  conscious- 
the  situation.  There  is  a  notself-con- 
sciousness  or  object-consciousness  as  truly  as  a 
self-consciousness  or  subject-consciousness.  Self 
and  object  or  agent  and  situation  are  correla- 
tive aspects  of  experience.  In  the  wider  sense 
which  identifies  it  with  the  totality  of  experi- 
ence, the  self  embraces  both  consciousness-of- 
the-self  and  consciousness-of-the-object.  The 
self  in  this  sense  sums  up  the  unity  and  con- 
tinuity of  the  process  of  experience.  It  is  not  a 
fixed  entity.  It  is  a  dynamic  growing  reality,  a 
cumulative  growth,  a  constructive  synthesis.  My 
self  is  different,  is  something  more  to-day  than 
it  was  yesterday.  The  synthesis  of  self-conscious- 
ness is  never  complete.  It  is  no  mere  succession 


342         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

of  states  of  consciousness.  More  important  than 
the  stream  of  conscious  states  is  that  background 
of  organized  experience  which  constitutes  an  in- 
finite subHminal  self  of  which  conscious  experi- 
ence is  but  the  efflorescence  and  fruition.  The 
real  identity  and  permanence  of  selfhood  lies 
not  so  much  in  the  conjunction  or  connection 
of  ideas  in  consciousness  as  in  that  unity  and 
continuity  of  action  represented  in  instinct  and 
habit. 

We  are  accustomed  to  think  of  consciousness 
as  belonging  exclusively  to  the  individual.  We 
introspec-  ^^^^  much  Concerning  the  impossibility 
Retoospec-  ^^  Constructing  a  conscious  series  for 
*^°°'  other  minds  than  our  own,  that  no  one 

can  get  beyond  the  pale  of  his  own  conscious- 
ness, that  his  own  consciousness  is  the  only 
one  of  which  he  has  any  direct  knowledge,  and 
so  forth.  That  there  is  a  fallacy  in  such  con- 
ceptions has  long  been  suspected,  but  it  has 
been  difficult  to  put  a  finger  upon  the  source 
of  the  error.  The  fallacy  seems  to  lie  in  the 
false  conception  of  the  nature  of  conscious- 
ness. After  separating  it  from  its  content  of 
material  and  social  objects  and  events,  it  is 
treated  as  still  possessing  all  its  characters  as 
consciousness,  whereas  in  truth  its  very  exist- 


MIND  AND  MATTER  343 

ence  as  consciousness  consists  in  the  interrela- 
tion of  these  contents. 

A  number  of  writers  have  insisted  that  intro- 
spection, strictly  speaking,  is  an  impossibility. 
Its  validity  has  been  called  into  question  by  such 
writers  as  Comte,  Lange,  and  Maudsley.  They 
insist  that  all  introspection  is  really  7'e^rospec- 
tion,  not  wi^rospection  at  all.  Introspection,  it 
has  been  said,  is  as  if  one  were  to  look  at  him- 
self in  a  mirror  and  see  himself  seeing.  But  one 
does  not  in  this  instance  really  see  himself  in 
his  present  act  of  seeing,  including  both  his  own 
organism  and  the  mirror  into  which  he  looks. 
Another  mirror  would  be  required  for  that,  and 
so  on  indefinitely.  If  there  were  a  perfect  mir- 
ror at  the  end  of  the  room  in  which  I  am  sitting 
and  I  had  never  tactually  explored  that  end  of 
the  room  I  should  be  unable  to  distinguish  vis- 
ually between  the  actual  room  and  the  reflected 
image.  As  Mr.  Spiller  adds :  "  I  now  shut  my 
eyes,  and  redevelop  the  sight  of  the  room.  Does 
this  image  fundamentally  differ  from  the  object 
and  the  looking-glass  picture?"  "Except  for 
unimportant  circumstances,  the  primary  and  sec- 
ondary visual  worlds,  or  the  visual  worlds  of 
sense  and  imagination,  are  one."  This  certainly 
is  in  line  with  other  similar  explanations  of  men- 


344         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

tal  phenomena  in  physiological  psychology.  It 
is  in  harmony  with  the  tendency  in  recent  years 
to  explain  all  images  as  simply  prolonged  after- 
images (more  properly  called  after-sensations). 
Now  does  not  this  suggest  that  what  we  call  this 
unique,  inner,  immediate,  direct,  unshareable 
experience  after  all  is  arrived  at  as  inf erentially 
as  any  other  experience,  that  there  is  no  essen- 
tial difference  between  the  so-called  external  mir- 
ror and  the  internal  mirror,  that  the  image  in 
the  mirror  of  memory  is  not  different  from  the 
image  in  the  looking-glass  ?  The  more  will  this 
appear  to  be  true  when  we  recall  the  tendency 
in  recent  psychology  to  conceive  of  memory 
(Hering)  and  association  (James)  in  terms  of 
habit  and  physiological  traces  in  the  brain.  In 
principle,  as  a  mirror  for  reflecting  objects,  the 
brain  does  not  differ  from  the  silvered  square  of 
glass  or  from  the  photographic  plate.  If,  then, 
memory  (retrospection)  is  essential  to  introspec- 
tion and  the  brain,  the  organ  of  memory,  does 
not  differ  essentially  from  the  physical  mirror, 
how  do  the  reflected  phenomena  in  the  one  in- 
stance differ  inprincii^le  from  the  reflected  phe- 
nomena in  the  other?  Is  this  perchance  the 
solution  of  the  old  puzzle  of  subjective  idealism? 
Is   the    distinction  between    the   introspective 


,         MIND  AND  MATTER  345 

world  (the  world  of  consciousness  revealed 
through  memory)  and  the  external  world  (the 
world  of  space  and  time)  in  the  last  analysis 
simply  another  self-made  problem  —  a  problem 
arising  out  of  the  abstraction  of  things  that  in 
reality  are  not  thus  separated  ?  And  is  this  per- 
haps the  core  of  meaning  in  the  insistence  by 
certain  recent  writers  on  the  fact  of  "  inter-sub- 
jective intercourse"  and  the  essentially  social 
character  of  consciousness? 

§  35.    CONSCIOUSNESS   AND   THE   PSYCHICAL 

It  is  obvious  from  what  has  been  said  that 
however  we  define  the  term  "  psychical,"  it  gets 
its  significance  in  relation  to  and  con- 

Psvclilc&l. 

trast  with  the  correlative  concept  of  and 

PlivslcflJ. 

the  physical.  Even  though  with  the 
pan-psychist  we  seek  to  reduce  the  physical  to 
the  psychical,  or  with  the  epiphenomenalist  we 
reduce  the  psychical  to  the  physical,  we  have 
simply  renamed  the  universe.  We  have  not 
solved  the  problem  suggested  by  the  terms.  We 
have  not  defined  the  meaning  of  either  word 
when  we  identify  it  with  the  All.  The  old  prob- 
lem of  the  relation  between  the  two  aspects  ex- 
pressed by  these  terms  only  breaks  out  afresh 
■within  the  new  world-view.  If  it  be  said  that 


346         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

the  same  objection  might  be  made  to  our  use  of 
the  term  "  experience  "  to  express  the  All,  it 
may  be  replied  that  the  two  cases  are  not  anal- 
ogous. Pan-psjchism  reduces  reality  to  mental 
experience  in  the  sense  of  denying  the  existence 
of  the  physical  as  such.  Epiphenomenalism  in 
like  manner  virtually  denies  the  existence  of  the 
psychical.  The  view  here  presented,  on  the  con- 
trary, denies  the  existence  of  no  phase  of  reality 
in  describing  the  All  as  experience.  It  asserts 
that  reality  is  reality  only  in  the  process  of 
becoming  experience,  and  that  experience  is 
experience  only  in  the  process  of  realizing  some- 
thing specific  and  concrete.  If  mentalism  and 
materialism  undertook  to  show  the  functional 
significance  and  interdependence  of  the  psychi- 
cal and  the  physical,  it  might  be  different.  But 
they  deny  the  existence  of  that  which  in  some 
sense  must  exist  in  order  to  make  even  the  denial 
intelligible. 

Objects  are  not  presented  to  consciousness. 

Nor  is   consciousness  a  subject  apprehending 

these  objects.  But  consciousness  is  the 

Tlio  Psvclii" 

caiandthe    subjcct-objcct  relation,  the  relation  of 

Conscious.  ,  ,   .  .  ,  , 

tension  and  interaction  between  these 
two  aspects  or  factors.  It  is  not  the  subjective 
or  psychical  asjject.  It  is  the  tension  of  the  sub- 


MIND  AND  MATTER  347 

ject  and  the  object,  of  meaning  and  existence, 
of  theory  and  fact,  of  the  psychical  and  the 
physical,  of  ends  and  means.  A  great  deal  of 
misunderstanding  has  arisen  from  the  confusion 
of  consciousness  in  this  inclusive  sense  with  the 
psychical,  which  from  this  point  of  view  is  only 
one  factor  or  aspect.  In  the  present  state  of 
psychology  one  may  perhaps  be  permitted  to 
use  the  term  "consciousness"  as  he  chooses 
provided  that  he  clearly  define  it  and  consist- 
ently adhere  to  his  definition.  He  may  make 
consciousness  and  the  psychical  identical.  But  in 
that  case  he  must  face  this  problem :  How  can 
consciousness  know  the  physical  if  by  definition 
the  physical  object  is  outside  of  consciousness? 
Here  is  knowing  and  there  is  object  known.  H 
there  is  to  be  no  third  somewhat  introduced  to 
explain  it,  the  question  at  once  arises  as  to  why 
there  should  be  this  dualism.  Why  should  there 
ever  be  this  relation  of  opposition  between  sub- 
ject knowing  and  object  known  ? 

This  in  no  sense  denies  the  existence  of  the 
unconscious;  it  simply  denies  the  independent 
existence  of  either  the  physical  or  the  ThePsy- 
psychical.  These  exist  only  as  they  func-  Sl'^unwl- 
tion  within  conscious  experience;  they  "^°'"' 
have  no  existence  apart  from  this  role.   The  ex- 


348         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

istence  of  the  unconscious  is  in  no  way  affected. 
Experience  of  the  more  attuitive  type,  such  as 
instinct  and  impulse,  exhibits  a  preconscious  or 
prereflective  state  in  which  the  distinction  of 
the  psychical  and  the  physical  has  not  yet  been 
set  up.  And  experience  of  the  intuitive  type, 
such  as  habit,  motor  automatism,  and  sesthetic 
absorption,  exhibits  postreflective  states  in  which 
the  two  phases  have  collapsed  once  more  into 
a  relatively  undifferentiated  unity.  The  latter, 
however,  must  be  recognized  as  a  synthesis  on 
a  higher  or  at  least  a  different  level  from  that 
of  instinct.  Consciousness  and  the  psychical, 
therefore,  are  not  identical  in  any  sense  which 
excludes  the  physical,  for  consciousness  con- 
sists in  the  mutual  opposition  and  interaction  of 
the  psychical  and  the  physical.  It  follows  that 
the  unconscious  is  not  to  be  identified  with  the 
physical,  for  the  physical  comes  into  being  as 
such  only  in  consciousness,  i.  e.  only  in  con- 
trast with  and  relation  to  the  psychical.  The 
psychical  and  the  physical  are  present,  if  you 
please,  in  both  unconscious  and  conscious  ex- 
perience, the  difference  being  that  in  the  un- 
conscious the  relation  between  the  two  is  inde- 
terminate or  implicit,  while  in  consciousness 
they  become  determinately  explicit. 


MIND  AND   MATTER  349 

Experience  may  be  conceived  either  as  con- 
tent or  as  process.  As  process  consciousness 
perpetually  eludes  introspection.  It  is  content  ana 
the  unique  increment  or  reinforcement  ^"oess. 
of  experience  which,  just  because  of  its  relative 
novelty,  is  incapable  of  classification  until  it  can 
be  stated  retrospectively  in  terms  of  other  ex- 
periences. It  is  experience  at  its  growing-point, 
the  cambium  layer,  so  to  speak,  where  all  is 
fluid  and  undergoing  modification  —  a  process 
at  once  of  transformation,  reorganization  of 
the  old,  and  construction,  organization  of  the 
new.  We  have  found  that  experience  becomes 
conscious  under  certain  conditions  of  relative 
tension,  i.  e.  experience  is  conscious  when  it 
functions  in  a  certain  way.  From  this  point  of 
view  consciousness  is  experience  undergoing 
metamorphosis.  Consciousness  is  here  viewed 
longitudinally  or  genetically,  i.  e.  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  spectator. 

As  content  experience  presents  two  correlative 
phases  —  the  physical  and  the  psychical.  The 
physical  is  experience  stated  from  a  certain  point 
of  view  —  that  of  the  extra-orjranic  world.  The 
psychical  is  this  same  experience  stated  from 
the  standpoint  of  the  organic  attitudes  with 
which  in  the  narrower  sense  I  identify  myself. 


350         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

The  distinction  between  the  two  aspects  is,  how- 
ever, purely  a  methodological  one,  so  that  the  two 
aspects  are  to  be  considered  as  functional  phases 
of  the  same  thing  rather  than  as  representing 
separate  existences.  That  is,  viewed  from  within, 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  individual  who  is 
conscious,  this  metamorphosis  appears  as  a  po- 
larization of  aspects.  It  is  not  a  stage  of  develop- 
ment intermediate  between  two  unconscious  acts 
or  states  (the  point  of  view  of  the  outside  ob- 
server), but  is  just  the  process  of  tension  and 
interaction  of  factors  which  when  viewed  in 
cross-section  (analytically)  appear  as  the  psychi- 
cal and  the  physical.  The  act  of  knowledge 
or  reflection  transforms  the  process  into  a  con- 
tent. 

Much  confusion  has  arisen  from  equivocal 
use  of  this  term  "psychical."  The  psychical  as 
process  is  simply  a  synonym  for  consciousness. 
But  as  content,  as  datum  of  scientific  or  philo- 
sophic reflection,  it  exists  only  in  relation  to 
and  contrast  with  the  physical.  As  the  object- 
matter  of  reflective  thought  it  is  an  abstraction 
from  the  concrete  process  of  experience.  Pro- 
fessor Buchner  has  reached  the  heart  of  the 
question  when  he  says :  "  The  *  process '  and 
Hhing'  views  must  be  unified  in  a  conception 


MIND  AND  MATTER  351 

that  regards  the  thing  not  as  static  nor  the  pro- 
cess as  merely  drifting ;  then  we  first  come  to 
a  right  view  concerning  the  object  of  psycho- 
logical research."  These  two  points  of  view  really 
represent  two  different  interests  —  what  have 
been  called  the  structural  or  analytic  and  the 
dynamic  or  functional.  When  we  represent  ex- 
perience or  the  soul  as  a  "thing"  we  are  in- 
terested in  it  as  an  achieved  fact,  something 
valuable  in  and  for  itself.  When  we  view  it  as 
fluid,  as  a  process,  we  are  viewing  it  as  instru- 
mental to  the  gaining  of  a  value  which  is  not 
yet  actualized  ;  we  are  viewing  it  as  means  to  an 
end.  Both  are  necessary  movements  of  abstrac- 
tion within  our  reflective  experience,  but  they 
must  be  interpreted  in  terms  of  each  other  and 
both  must  be  interpreted  in  terms  of  the  con- 
crete whole  from  which  they  abstract.  That 
which  is  referred  to  by  the  parallelist  as  purely 
physiological,  and  which  in  our  phraseology  is 
that  part  of  the  dynamic  system  which  is  out  of 
the  immediate  focus  of  sensation,  is  not  some- 
thinsr  outside  of  consciousness,  for,  as  we  have 
seen,  no  intelligible  meaning  can  be  attached  to 
the  spatial  metaphor  when  applied  to  conscious- 
ness: the  physiological  or  unconscious  back- 
ground of  consciousness  is  simply  that  part  of 


352         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

experience  which    is   irrelevant  in    the   given 
situation. 

Here  is  a  spinning  top.  We  cannot  ask  what 
the  spin  is  apart  from  the  top  :  it  would  be  like 
Illustration  ^.sking  for  the  grin  without  the  cat. 
oitheTop.  ^^Q  cannot  drain  off  the  relation  on  a 
wire  like  an  electric  current  or  skim  it  off  like 
cream  from  a  pan  of  milk.  Try  to  catch  the 
spin  and  you  stop  it  and  what  do  you  have? 
The  top  ?  Yes  and  no  !  No,  since  a  top  which 
is  not  spinning  is  not  the  full  reality  of  a  top : 
you  simply  have  the  permanent  possibility  of  a 
top,  a  potential  top,  since  a  top  is  something 
which  spins.  Stop  the  spin  and  you  get  some- 
thing, to  be  sure,  but  it  is  not  top.  We  call  it 
a  top,  but  only  as  an  artifact,  if  we  think  closely. 
Similarly,  as  Professor  Baldwin  has  pointed  out, 
a  microscopically  thin  slice  of  the  cortex  of  a 
human  brain  is  not  brain,  since  you  have  killed 
it  in  order  to  study  it.  A  brain  is  not  its  full 
reality  as  a  brain  except  when  it  is  conscious. 
Matter  is  not  its  full  reality  as  matter  except 
when  it  is  thinking.  The  converse,  of  course, 
is  equally  true,  that  just  as  it  would  be  foolish 
to  attempt  to  state  the  spin  apart  from  the  top, 
so  it  would  be  absurd  to  attempt  to  state  con- 
sciousness apart  from  brain.     Mind  apart  from 


MIND  AND  MATTER  353 

matter  likewise  is  an  artifact.  Attempt  to  state 
what  mind  is  as  a  content  and  you  always  get  a 
physical  statement.  Investigate  the  nature  of  an 
emotion,  a  sensation,  or  an  idea,  and  you  find 
nothing  but  what  is  statable  in  physical  terms. 
Matter  is  simply  mind  construed,  interpreted, 
just  as  the  "  top  "  is  what  you  get  when  you  take 
hold  of  the  spin  to  see  what  it  is  like.  Just  as 
the  reality  in  the  one  case  is  the  spinning-top 
or  the  top-spinning,  so  the  reality  in  the  other 
case  is  matter-thinkins^  or  thouo^ht-finding:- 
hands-and-feet. 

§    36.    DUALISM   AND   MONISM 

Is  dualism  or  monism  true?  For  answer  we 
may  say  that  there  is  but  one  reality,  the  reality 
of  experience.  Absolute  dualism  is  a  contradic- 
tion in  terms,  but  a  relative  dualism  or  plural- 
ism is  not  inconsistent  with  a  monistic  meta- 
physics. Paradoxical  as  it  seems,  experience  is 
always  one  even  when  it  is  two,  for  the  duality 
is  a  distinction  set  up  within  the  unity. 

Is  reality  ultimately  material  or  spiritual  in 
its  nature?  In  reply  we  may  say  that  what  we 
call  the  spiritual  is  the  use  to  which  the  material 
is  put.  It  is  the  new  value  or  worth  or  function 
of  any  part  of  reality  in  relation  to  any  other 


354         PRINCIPLES   OF  PRAGMATISM 

part  or  in  relation  to  the  whole.  This  appears 
especially  at  the  points  of  specific  need  and  there- 
fore of  readjustment,  at  which  reality  is  under- 
going transformation.  Spirit  stands  for  the  fact 
of  the  reorganization  of  experience  in  some- 
body's consciousness — such  reconstruction  be- 
ing always  an  individual  affair.  Mind  is  matter 
evolving,  or  if  this  seems  too  bald  a  statement 
savoring  of  materialism,  it  may  be  said  that  con- 
sciousness is  the  same  reality  or  experience, 
viewed  dynamically  as  process  and  as  under- 
going metamorphosis  to  a  higher  level,  that  we 
call  matter  when  regarded  statically  upon  any 
given  level  already  attained. 

Is  parallelism  or  the  identity  hypothesis  true  ? 
In  reply  we  may  say  that  both  are  true  if  stated 
correctly,  because  each  presupposes  the  other. 
Consciousness  is  experience  in  its  growth  phase. 
But  growth  implies  tension  and  interaction  of 
parts:  this  is  the  truth  in  parallelism.  In  re- 
flecting upon  and  attempting  to  state  such  a 
growth  process  we  carry  over  from  our  past  a 
phase  of  experience  which  we  take  as  the  basis 
of  the  transformation.  From  our  experience 
which  is  to  be,  which  is  present  to  us  only  as  an 
ideal  content,  we  formulate  a  phase  which  is  con- 
ceived as  at  once  an  outgrowth  from,  yet  at  the 


MIND  AND  MATTER  355 

same  time  transcends  this  basis  of  our  past  ex- 
perience. The  interaction  of  this  "  past "  and 
this  "future"  content  is  the  process  of  con- 
sciousness. This  is  well  illustrated  by  the  rela- 
tion of  the  copula  to  the  subject  and  predicate 
in  the  judgment.  In  the  subject  and  predicate 
we  have  the  content,  or  distinguished  contents, 
of  the  judgment;  but  in  the  copula  we  have  the 
process  of  judging  which,  though  having  no 
reality  apart  from  the  relatively  static  contents, 
yet  is  necessary  to  constitute  these  a  dynamic 
act  of  thought.  The  parallelism  of  the  psychical 
and  the  physical  is  thus  an  attempt  to  state  in 
the  static  terms  of  content  the  tension  or  polar- 
ity which  is  the  essential  nature  of  the  process 
of  consciousness.  Since  consciousness  is  the  very 
act  or  sphere  in  which  the  past  content  of  ex- 
perience is  being  transcended,  or  reconstituted, 
it  is  obvious  that  it  is  impossible  adequately  to 
describe  in  terms  of  past  content  the  process  in 
which  at  the  present  moment  the  new  content 
is  being  evolved. 

In  any  case,  it  appears  that  we  are  in  sight  of 
a  solution  of  the  problem  in  the  only  sense  in 
which  solutions  usually  are  found  for  philosophic 
problems  —  the  recognition  that  it  is  not  a  prob- 
lem after  all  but  a  shadow  or  ghost  of  our  own 


356         PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 

faulty  dialectic.  The  metaphysical  problems 
which  baffle  the  synoptic  thinker  grow  out  of 
the  exigencies  of  the  development  of  technique 
in  the  special  sciences.  This  problem  of  mind 
and  matter  is  a  typical  instance.  We  create  our 
own  difficulties,  though  they  are  none  the  less 
real  on  that  account.  The  more  necessity,  how- 
ever, that  the  philosopher  should  be  a  faithful 
student  of  the  way  of  working  of  the  man  of 
science.  All  method  is  a  sort  of  hallucination, 
and  we  have  the  task  of  threading  our  way  out 
into  the  sanity  of  a  more  self-conscious  illusion. 
We  need  to  recover  the  original  innocence  of 
our  naive  attitude  toward  things  without  losing 
any  of  the  gains  made  by  dealing  with  them  in 
the  more  sophisticated  way.  The  situation  ap- 
pears to  be  the  almost  paradoxical  one  of  being 
at  once  deluded  and  perfectly  conscious  of  the 
delusion.  Yet  this  in  a  sense  in  all  the  ages  has 
been  the  value  of  philosophy  to  man;  he  has 
answered  his  own  questions  chiefly  by  discover- 
ing reasons  why  it  is  irrelevant  to  ask  them. 


INDEX 


c 


INDEX 


Absolute,  chapter  viii;  and  time, 
277  ;  evolution  and,  290  £. ;  the 
finished,  305;  the  functional, 
307. 

Absolutism,  305  f. 

Abstractions,  the  fallacy  of,  46- 
47. 

Acquiescence  and  imperative,  35, 
217. 

Action,  sciences  meet  in  the  con- 
cept of,  62 ;  consciousness  a 
mode  of,  63 ;  experience  as, 
126 ;  feeling  and,  141  f. ;  think- 
ing in  relation  to,  153  f. ;  lan- 
guage as  a  mode  of,  182  f. ; 
and  the  psychical  or  spiritual, 
329  f . 

AngeU,  J.  R.,  127. 

Animism,  322  f . 

Antinomy,  of  time  and  conscious- 
ness, 283  f . ;  of  cause  and  effect, 
287 ;  of  evolution  and  the  ab- 
solute, 299 ;  of  mind  and  mat- 
ter, 311  f.,  313. 

Attention,  habit  and,  119  f. ;  and 
tension,  122 ;  and  sensation,  124 ; 
and  volition,  125. 

Authority,  the  problem  of,  219  f . ; 
demand  for  a  final,  230;  and 
freedom,  231 ;  the  two  kinds 
of,  233;  the  discrimination  of, 
234. 

Automatic  perception,  143. 

Automatism,  dissociation  and, 
116. 

Axiology,  238. 


BaiUie,  197. 

Bain,  153. 

Baldwin,  J.  Mark,  168,  180,  293, 
296,  304,  352. 

Binet,  260. 

Biology,  contribution  of  to  phi- 
losophy, 49 ;  says  nature  is  or- 
ganic, 59. 

Birth,  83  f. 

Bosanqnet,  B.,  194,  258. 

Bradley,  F.  H.,  305. 

Brain,  the  special  function  of, 
101 ;  and  consciousness,  352. 

Buchner,  350. 

Caird,  E.,  304. 

Causation,  problem  of,  261 ,  278  f . ; 
popular  idea  of,  278 ;  scientific 
idea  of,  279 ;  metaphysical  idea 
of,  282;  pragmatic  theory  of, 
285  f.;  cause  and  condition, 
281. 

Change  and  the  Absolute,  306. 

Christianity,  contribution  of,  221- 
224. 

Cognition,  feeling  and,  146. 

Common-sense,  11  f. 

Common-sense  view  of  truth, 
197  f. 

Communication  and  expression  in 
language,  177  f. 

Comte,  343. 

Concept,  172-173. 

Concrete  experience,  51. 

Condition  and  cause,  281. 

Congruity,  the  principle  of,  216. 


360 


INDEX 


Consciousness,  chapter  iii;  real- 
ity and  consciousness,  32  f . ; 
the  social,  71  f.;  the  unique- 
ness of,  72  f . ;  experience  and, 
89,  328  f . ;  the  nervous  system 
and,  92,  352  f.;  the  "seat"  of, 
96;  the  law  of,  103  f.;  the 
evolution  of,  110  f. ;  primitive, 
111;  the  criterion  of,  112;  the 
unconscious  and,  114f. ;  and  its 
object,  252  f. ;  analysis  of  the 
space,  268  f . ;  the  time,  271  f . ; 
the  paradox  of  time  and,  27-1 ; 
primitive  conceptions  of ,  321  f. ; 
not  a  distinct  existence,  332  f . ; 
the  naive,  334  f. ;  the  reflec- 
tive, 336  f. ;  self-consciousness 
and  object-consciousness,  341 ; 
and  the  psychical,  345  f. 

Conservation  versus  evolution, 
290  f. 

Consistency  as  test  of  truth, 
199. 

Content  and  process,  309,  349. 

Continuity  and  discreteness,  215, 
273  f.,  289. 

Control,  freedom  as,  78;  objec- 
tivity as,  255. 

Copula,  subject,  predicate,  and, 
195. 

Creighton,  J.  E.,  193. 

Criterion,  is  the  habit  brought  to 
consciousness,  205  ;  the  chang- 
ing character  of  the,  208  f . ; 
stability  of  the,  208  f . ;  the 
multiplicity  of  standards,  228 f. 

Death,  83  f. 

Descartes,  326. 

Dewey,  J.,  25,  31,  57,  75,  148, 
165,  188,  203,  206,  216,  217, 
233,  250,  276,  285-286,  308. 

Discreteness,  continuity  and,  215, 
273  f.,  289. 


Dissociation     and     automatism, 

116. 
Doubt-inquiry  process,  thinking 

a,  158  f. 
Dualism  and  monism,  353  f. 
Du  Bois  Reymond,  314. 

Ecelesiasticism,  222  f. 

Effect,  cause  and,  278  f. 

Emotion,  theories  of,  130  f.,  141 ; 
the  law  of,  134  f. ;  classifica- 
tion of  the  emotions,  147. 

Empiricism;  empirical  phase  of 
pragmatism,  31;  immediate 
empiricism,  55  f. 

Ends  and  means,  213  f. 

Energism,  102,  103. 

Epiphenomenalism,  314,  346. 

Epistemology,  and  reality,  238 ; 
the  pragmatic,  251  f. 

Equilibrium  and  consciousness, 
113. 

Essence  versus  origin,  291  f. 

Evolution,  extra-organic,  73  f. ; 
of  consciousness,  110  f. ;  and 
the  Absolute,  290  f . ;  mechan- 
ical theory  of,  301  f . ;  teleo- 
logical  theory  of,  303  f. 

Evolutionism,  301  f. 

Experience,  chapter  ii ;  more  than 
any  statement  of  experience, 
17;  philosophy  is  general  theory 
of,  30 ;  and  reality,  32  f.,  55- 
56 ,  philosophical  conception 
of,  olf. ;  scientific  view  of,  57 
f . ;  social  nature  of,  64  f . ;  un- 
conscious, 1 17  ;  the  unity  and 
the  diversity  of,  119 ;  as  action, 
126  ;  thought  the  ordering  of, 
152 ;  consciousness  and,  89, 
328  f.;  as  process  and  as  con- 
tent, 307  f .,  349  f. 

Expression,  communication  and, 
in  language,  177. 


INDEX 


361 


Facilitation,  the  law  of,  113  f. ; 
tension  and,  115  f.  ;  and  habit, 
121. 

Failure,  158  f. 

Failure-feelings,  147-148. 

Fechner- Weber  law,  107. 

Feeling-,  chapter  iv  ;  and  instinct, 
128  f.  ;  summation-irradiation 
theory  of,  131  f .  ;  and  action, 
141  f. ;  theories  of,  130,  141 ; 
analysis  of  a  cycle  of,  142  ;  and 
impulse,  145 ;  and  cognition, 
14G ;  and  interest,  149 ;  and 
mysticism,  14,  20,  227. 

Freedom,  the  problem  of,  77  f. ; 
authority  and,  231  f. 

Functional,  point  of  view,  44  f . ; 
theory  of  knowledge,  200  f. ; 
distinction  between  subjective 
and  objective,  260;  theory  of 
space  and  time,  267,  276 ; 
function  and  structure,  275 ; 
the  functional  Absolute,  307. 

Given,  The,  34. 
God.  See  Absolute. 
Green,  248. 

Habit,  and  attention,  119  f.  ;  and 
facilitation,  121 ;  memory  and, 
173 ;  and  criterion,  205 ;  and 
objectivity,  255  f. 

Hegel,  77,  260. 

Hering,  344. 

Herriek,  C.  L.,  76,  130  f.,  319. 

Hirn,  137,  153,  184. 

Hobhouse,  L.  T.,  296. 

Holmes,  O.  W.,  177. 

Humanism,  16. 

Hume,  216,  226. 

Huxley,  314. 

Ideal  and  standard,  200. 
Idealism     idealistic     phase      of 


pragmatism,  36  f. ;  and  real- 
ism, 240  f. 

Ideas,  function  of,  in  knowledge, 
167  f. ;  function  of  the  word  in 
relation  to,  179  f. 

Identity,  conservation  or,  290  f. 

Identity-hypothesis,  354-355. 

Imagery :  the  fundamental  im- 
agery of  meaning,  99  f . ;  the 
memory  image,  171  f. ;  the  con- 
structive image,  174  f. ;  the 
tactile-kinaesthetic,  191  f . ;  and 
objectivity,  255  f. 

Imagination,  memory  and,  170  f. ; 
idealization  and,  174. 

Immanental  and  transcendental 
theories  of  the  criterion,  220  f . 

Immediacy,  reality  as,  238 ;  the 
Absolute  and,  309-310. 

Immediate  empiricism,  55,  56. 

Immortality,  the  problem  of,  82  f. 

Imperative,  acquiescence  and,  35, 
217  f. 

Imperialism,  220  f. 

Impulse,  feeling  and,  145. 

Individuality,  76,  325  f . 

Inhibition,  123. 

Inquiry :  thinking  a  doubt-in- 
quiry process,  158. 

Instinct,  feeling  and,  128 ;  and 
impulse,  129,  130. 

Instrumentalism,  25. 

Intellectualism,  205. 

Interactionism,  315. 

Interest,  feeling  and,  149. 

Introspection  and  retrospection, 
342  f. 

Irradiation :  summation-irradia- 
tion theory,  131  f . ; the  mechau- 
ism  of,  132  f. 

James,  W.,  9,  12,  36,  48,  57,  142, 

152,  203,  254,  323,  344. 
Judgment,  194,  217  f. 


362 


INDEX 


Kant,  90,  161,  254,  260, 264,  265- 

266. 
KeUer,  Helen,  100. 
Knowledge,  representative  theory 

of,  199 ;  functional  theory  of, 

200  f. ;  two  kinds  of,  216 ;  and 

reality,  248  f . 

Lange,  343. 

Lange-James  theory,  142. 

Language,  17  f.,  175  f. ;  origin  of, 
183  f . ;  the  value  of,  187  ;  the 
limitations  of,  188  f. 

Language-consciousness,  the  fac- 
tors in,  189  f. 

Lessing,  307. 

Life,  92. 

Literalism,  224  f. 

Loeb,  J.,  94. 

Lotze,  248,  250. 

Marshall,  G.  R.,  131. 

Materialism,  101,  102,  315. 

Matter.  See  Physical. 

Matter  and  Mind,  chapter  ix. 

Maudsley,  124,  343. 

Meaning,  the  fundamental  imag- 
ery of,  99;  value  and,  1.50; 
the  unit  of,  is  the  sentence,  192. 

Means  and  ends,  213  f. 

Mechanical.  See  Mechanism. 

Mechanism :  nature  mechanical, 
58  f. ;  the  living  machine,  91 ; 
criticism  of  mechanical  theory 
of  nature,  266 ;  mechanical 
theory  of  evolution,  301. 

Memory,  and  imagination,  170  f. ; 
and  habit,  173. 

Metaphysics,  the  pragmatic,  240, 
247. 

Method  :  philosophy  as  method, 
26  f. ;  the  functional  point  of 
view,  44  f. ;  and  the  mind-mat- 
ter problem,  319. 


Mill,  J.  S.,  279. 
Mind.   See  Psychical. 
Mind  and  matter,  chapter  ix. 
Mind,  soul,  or  spirit,  327. 
Monism  and  dualism,  353  f. 
Mysticism,  14  f.,  20,  227  f. 

Naturalism,  defects  of,  283. 
Nature,  scientific  view  of,  58  f. 
Necessity,  217. 
Nervous  system,  93  f . 

Object,  consciousness  and  its, 
252  ;  object-consciousness  and 
self-consciousness,  341. 

Objectivist  theory  of  space  and 
time,  262  f . 

Objectivity,  reality  as,  237  ;  na- 
ture of,  254  f.  ;  as  externality, 
254  ;  as  control,  255  f. ;  evolu- 
tion of,  327. 

Ontology,  237. 

Organic  circuit,  97  f . 

Organism:  nature  an  organism, 
59,  60 ;  the  social  organism, 
(0  f . ;  the  psycho-physical, 
89  f . ;  organism  and  environ- 
ment, 90. 

Origin,  essence  versus,  291  f. ; 
not  absolute,  296  f , 

Pain :  and  pleasure,  theories  of, 
130  f. ;  and  pleasure,  the  rela- 
tivity of,  136  f. ;  the  tonic  of, 
137. 

Panpsychism,  314,  324  f.,  346. 

Parallelism,  psychophysical,  312 
f.,  354,  355. 

Patrick,  J.  W.  T.,  183. 

Pearson,  K.,  73. 

Personality,  61  f. 

Philosophy,  chapter  i ;  defined, 
30,  31,  51 ;  relation  to  science, 
21  f. ;  nature   of   its  method, 


INDEX 


363 


319-321 ;  nature  of  ita  prob- 
lems, 355,  356. 

Physical,  and  psychical,  311  f., 
349 ;  and  the  spiritual,  329  f . 

Physics  says  nature  is  mechani- 
cal, 58. 

Plato,  323. 

Pleasure  :  and  pain,  theories  of, 
130  f . ;  and  paiu,  the  relativity 
of,  136  f . ;  the  surfeit  of,  139. 

Practicalism,  12. 

Practice,  theory  and,  7. 

Pragmatic,  method,  44  f . ;  meta- 
physics, 240,  247  ;  epistemo- 
log7,  251  f. ;  meaning  of  space 
and  time,  276  f . 

Predicate,  subject,  and  copula, 
195. 

Primary  and  secondary  quali- 
ties, 263. 

Primitive,  attitude  of  mind,  65  f . ; 
consciousness,  111;  conceptions 
of  mind  and  matter,  321  f. 

Process  and  content,  309,  349  f. 

Psychical,  and  physical,  311  f., 
345  ;  evolution  of  the,  325  f .  ; 
consciousness  and  the,  345  f . ; 
and  the  unconscious,  347  f . 

Psychogenesis,  108  f. 

Psychology,  says  nature  is  men- 
tal, 61 ;  Dewey's  definition  of, 
75. 

Psychomechanics,  338. 

Puffer,  H.  D.,  138. 

Rationalism,  226  f. 

Real.  See  Reality. 

Realism  and  idealism,  240  f. 

Reality,  chapter  vii ;  reality  and 
experience,  32  f.,  5."i-5G ;  what 
is  reality  ?  237  f . ;  knowledge 
and,  248  f. ;  touch  the  test  of, 
259. 

Reason,  226  f. 


Relevancy,    the     principle     of, 

211  f. 
Religion,  15. 

Repose,  stimulation  and,  139  f. 
Representative  theory  of  know« 

ledge,  199. 
Response,   stimulus   and,   95  f. ; 

principle  of  vicarious,  185. 
Royce,  J.,  199,  203,  292,  305. 

Schiller,  F.  C.  S.,  16,  198. 

Science,  relation  to  philosophj', 
21  f.  ;  scientific  conception  of 
experience,  57  f. ;  sciences  meet 
in  the  concept  of  action,  62 ; 
criticism  of,  266  ;  and  parallel- 
ism, 312 ;  evolution  of  the 
method  of,  340. 

Secondary  qualities,  primary  and, 
263. 

Self,  and  society,  68  f . ;  the  social 
nature  of,  75 ;  the  unity  of, 
76  f. ;  selfhood  immortal,  86  f . 

Sensation,  attention  and,  124; 
function  of,  in  knowledge, 
161  f. ;  and  stimulus,  166  f. 

Sentence,  the  unit  of  meaning  is 
the,  192. 

Sequence,  and  causation,  278  f . ; 
and  evolution,  291. 

Sex,  S3. 

Social,  conception  of  experience, 
64  f. ;  organism,  70  f . ;  con- 
sciousness, 7 1  f . ;  language  the 
social  aspect  of  thought,  176  f. 

Society,  self  and,  68  f. 

Soul,  323  f.,  327,  and  see  Psy- 
chical. 

Space  and  time,  261  f. 

Spencer,  301. 

Spiller,  .•'.43. 

Spirit,  327,  and  see  Psychical. 

Spiritual,  329,  and  see  Psychical. 

Standard.  See  Criterion. 


364 


INDEX 


Stevenson,  2. 

Stimulation  and  repose,  139  f. 

Stimulus,   and    response,    98  f . ; 

and  sensation,  166  f. 
Stout,  J.  F.,  270. 
Strieker,  191. 
Strong,  C.  A.,  314. 
Stuart,  H.  W.,  258. 
Subject,   predicate,  and  copula, 

195. 
Subjectivist  theory  of  space  and 

time,  264  f. 
Subjectivity, and  objectivity,  261; 

evolution  of,  326  f . 
Success,  158  f. 
Success-feeling,  147-148. 
Summation-irradiation      theory, 

181  f.,  142. 
Symbol,  the  meaning  of  a,  185  f . 
System,  vi,  49. 

Tactile-kinsesthetic  imagery,  99, 
100 ;  the  fundamental  impor- 
tance of,  191. 

Teleologieal  theory  of  evolu- 
tion, 303  f. 

Tension,  the  condition  of  con- 
sciousness, 103  f.  ;  and  facili- 
tation, 115  f. ;  and  attention, 
122. 

Test  of  truth,  197  f. 

Theology,  238. 

Theory  and  practice,  7. 

Thinking,  chapter  v  ;  in  relation 
to  action,  153  f . ;  as  the  media- 
tion of  experience,  156  f . ;  and 
language,  175  f. ;  and  thing- 
ing,  250. 


Thorndike,  E.  C,  126. 

Thought.  See  Thinking. 

Time,  space    and,    261   f. ;   the 

time  consciousness,  271  f . ;  the 

paradox  of,  and  consciousness, 

274. 
Titchener,  E.  B.,  189-190,  272. 
Touch,  the  fundamental  imagery 

of   meaning,   99,    190;  as  the 

test  of  the  real,  259. 
Transcendental  and  immanental 

theories  of  the  criterion,  220  f. 
Truth,  chapter  vi ;  the  test  of, 

197  f . ;  is  that  which  satisfies 

a  need,   201  ;    is  that  which 

"works,"  202;  no  truth,  but 

only  truths,  208. 
TyndaU,  814. 

Unconscious,  the  conscious  and 
the,  114  f.  ;  experience,  117; 
the  psychical  and  the,  347. 

Unity,  is  not  Absolute,  298. 

Unknowable,  Spencer's,  302. 

Validity,  the   principle  of,  211 ; 

reality  as,  238. 
Value,  and  meaning,  150 ;  reality 

as,  239  f . 
Venn,  279. 
Volition,  attention  and,  125. 

Ward,  J.,  266. 
Weber-Fechner  Law,  107. 
Will,  127. 
Word,  function  of,  in  relation  to 

idea,    179;    is   the   completed 

idea,  187. 


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